


Poisoning the Well

by TheOracle



Series: Stormy Skies [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dub-Con Under Duress, Dubious Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Meme, Multi, Multiple Partners, Multiple Sex Positions, Oral Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Shameless Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-03-08 13:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3210596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOracle/pseuds/TheOracle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme response </p><p>The Inquisitor has been poisoned by a substance which makes any men in her vicinity go crazy with lust. Skyhold goes into a state of meltdown as she tries to escape untouched. Unfortunately, the side effects may be even more fatal than first realised and the Inquisitor may have to make bigger sacrifices to protect those she cares for.</p><p>(An OOC story as part of my Stormy Skies series)</p><p>It's finally complete! Whoot!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pretty long piece full of angst and what I would describe as dub-con under duress. It is also full of the smuttiest smut I've ever written and some nice hurt/comfort with a bit of fluff. A little soul searching too. A relatively happy outcome with the pairing of F!Inquisitor/Solas at the end.

“Finally, these arrived for you yesterday. You enjoyed them so much the last time, I thought to order another batch.”

Gayle quirked her eyebrow at Josephine, intrigued. The ball at Halamshiral had been a few weeks ago, yet she was still receiving gifts and petitions from Orlais and beyond. Cullen was also dealing with a barrage of solicitations and had found several rather ingenious ways to destroy them. She watched as he leaned a little too far over the war table while pretending to read a pile, letting a candle catch the edge of the papers.

“Oh dear, clumsy me!” he declared loudly as he tried to feign alarmed. Cullen made no attempt to put out the flames, instead he tilted bundle slightly, allowing the red tongues of fire to creep up the sides. With a smirk, he walked to the open fireplace and threw the whole lot into the crackling flames.

“How terrible!” Gayle couldn't help but join in, trying to look dismayed even as she stifled a chuckle. “I do hope none of the proposals I received were in there.”

“All of them I'm afraid. Such a tragedy!” Cullen was grinning now, his smile bright and boyish with mischief. He threw her a wink as they both tried to swallow down their laughter.

Gayle couldn't believe how different Cullen seemed now to when they first met all those months ago in Haven. On first impressions, the Commander had appeared a stern, serious man and she had struggled to pierce his polite and formal outer shell. He had despaired at her complete lack of fighting ability and she had often riled him by favouring spies and politics instead of sending his troops in to deal with situations directly. This had led to an argument, probably the most words they had ever exchanged up until that point, over her using his forces to help rebuild a tower. Seething with anger, Cullen had accused her of not trusting his abilities or those of his men, using them as labourers instead of the fighting force he had struggled to build. Dismayed at the accusation, Gayle had quietly informed him that she would never risk their forces lives when an alternative was presented.

The assault on Haven had changed everything. Her confrontation with Corypheus, the devastating landslide and her desperate struggle through the mountains had obviously altered Cullen's opinion. When they reached Skyhold, he began to open up and Gayle found herself faced with a very different man. He was gentler now, more open to discussing personal things like his childhood and his life as a Templar. He would spend a few hours each week teaching her chess (which, unlike cards, Gayle was awful at) and when he confessed his struggle with lyrium withdrawal, she had found herself spending hours in the library trying to find information that could help his recovery. They had fallen into an easy friendship now, their humour bouncing off each others to annoyance of her other advisers.

“Well, it is a good thing that I handed you the copies and not the originals I have here.” Leliana gave them both a smirk as she reached into a leather binder, pulled out another set of papers and began to fan herself with them. Gayle raised an eyebrow at Cullen and he replied with a nod. They would find a way for those to “accidentally” disappear later. Gayle thought it might even be worth calling in a favour from Sera.

“If you are all quite done? Inquisitor, you haven't opened the parcel I ordered for you.” Josephine lifted her eyes to bestow a disapproving pout as she motioned towards a small crate on the floor. Gayle flashed her an apologetic smile and knelt down, prying open the wooden lid to reveal several sealed jars. Picking one up, she peered into the dark sloshing liquid, noting the bobbing green spheres inside.

  
“Oooooo pickles! Yes. Josie, you are a saviour and a saint!” Gayle quickly scratched the wax seal back and unceremoniously pried out a pickle before popping it into her mouth. Her face contorted into a twisted grimace as her taste buds protested at the sudden vinegary onslaught. It was painfully delicious and completely moreish, a strange combination of incredibly strong vinegar, sea salt and a crunchy gerkin-like vegetable. She opened a watery eye to see her advisers regarding her with mild disgust. Crunching down the pickle enough to swallow, she tilted the jar in their direction.

“Sorry...eh, want one?”

“By the Maker, after the last time? I thought you were introducing us to a new form of torture instead of food.” Cullen wrinkled his nose, his throat bobbing as he tried to swallow back the memory. Leliana and Josephine just shook their heads, looking at the jar as though it might explode at any moment. Gayle shrugged, quickly scoffing down another one, relishing the crunchy texture. There was a little musky hint to them that she hadn't noted the last time, but it wasn't unpleasant.

“Shall we continue going through the dispatches then?” Josephine motioned to a tottering stack on the table and everyone nodded their reluctant agreement. Sitting in one of the more comfortable chairs, Gayle accepted a handful of notes from Leliana and settled down to a long days work. While her advisers briefed her on what they had received and suggested various options for dealing with arising issues, Gayle continued to sneak mouthfuls of pickle in between reconciling disagreements and making decisions.

Late morning drifted into mid afternoon and as they spoke of Red Templar sightings, Orlais politics and Tevinter spies. Gayle began to feel an uncomfortable heat building in her stomach, creeping up over her skin and causing beads of sweat to form along her spine. Taking a few gulps of watered wine, she shifted a little in her chair, looking up from her paperwork to see if anyone else was warm. Leliana and Josephine were deep in their paperwork. Cullen, on the other hand was staring intently back at her, sweat glistening at his hairline. His hands were gripped to the chair, his breathing deep and laboured.

“Is it just me, or is it sweltering in here?” The two women looked up, shaking their heads in unison.

“You do look rather flushed Inquisitor. Perhaps we should take a break.” Leliana shot a concerned glance at Cullen, who had remained silent throughout. Josephine nodded and began to gather up the parchment strewn around her, shuffling it into some sort of order.

“Right, let's meet back in say...an hour? I think I'll head out, get some fresh air.” Gayle quickly scrabbled up, leaving her own papers in a messy bundle on her chair before heading to the door. She slipped out into the corridor, which was mercifully a little colder than the war room, and decided that a visit to the garden would be an ideal place cool down. She heard Cullen's heavy footsteps behind her and figured that he might have the same idea. They could maybe even get in a practice game of Wicked Grace as, given his last performance, he was in dire need of it. As Gayle turned to suggest it, a strong hand clamped over the crook of her arm and with a quick jerk she found herself trapped in a crushing embrace.

Cullen pushed her roughly up against the stone wall of the corridor, the sheer size and strength of him nearly lifting her off the ground as he crushed a searing kiss against her mouth. Trapped between rock and steel plated muscle, Gayle could only stare, stunned, at the dark lust in Cullen's golden brown eyes as he ground against her, his hands roving over the lines of her body. She opened her mouth to protest or shout or ask him what the hell was going on, but her words were muffled by the sudden intrusion of his tongue as it lapped and swirled it's way around her own. He was groaning desperately now and she could feel the bulge of his growing length against her stomach, her own body gushing a pulsing wet heat in response. Wiggling her arms up between their bodies, Gayle managed to grab his shoulders and, using every ounce of her strength, she pushed him away long enough to gulp the breath back into her lungs.

“Cullen! What are you doing?!” she managed to croak, her arms already shaking from the effort of restraining him. His eyes were a little less wild now and he shook his head, looking bewildered as his hands groped and kneaded her backside.

“I don't know...I...can't. I can't stop...I need. I'm burning up! Maker, I have to...please!” he sounded desperate, pained and Gayle knew that, whatever this was, it wasn't him. Her arms gave way and he was back on her, his mouth trailing down her neck as he began to pull on her leather jerkin, fingers tearing at the fastenings. She had to get help, this could be some kind of twisted spell. She couldn't risk calling Leliana or Josie, what if he attacked them too? She needed to get to Solas, he'd be able to tell. Not knowing what else to do, Gayle relaxed her muscles, letting her legs drop out from under her as she slid from the jerkin and landed on the stone floor. Scooting to the side, she aimed a hard kick at Cullen's legs, sweeping him to the ground. She scrambled up before he could grab her, leaping for the door as she felt hands brushing against her ankles. Clattering through into Josie's office, she didn't wait to see if he was following her as she tore through the second corridor and into the main hall.


	2. Chapter 2

All eyes were on her as she stumbled into the room, slamming the heavy wooden door behind her with an echoing bang. Looking around, Gayle was grateful that only a few people still lingered after lunch, including a number of kitchen staff still clearing away plates from the dining tables. Looking down the hall, she spotted Varric at his usual place, thumbing through a pile of books.

“Varric!” Gayle shouted as she rushed towards him.

“Shit Stormy, you look like you've been mauled by a bear.” he said, glancing over her tousled hair and ruffled under-shirt. “What the hell happened?”

“No time...war room...get Cullen.” she panted back, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of his chair. 

“Wait, Curly did that to you?” he replied, as he stumbled to his feet and let her push him up the hall.

“He's not well, I think it's magic. You need to stop him while I get Solas. Make sure Josie and Leliana are alright too. Hurry!” Gayle turned back, rushing towards the door to the library tower. She felt Varric grab for her wrist and she managed to jerk away from him. She didn't have time to explain, she wasn't even sure what was happening herself. Tearing through the door into the rotunda, she let out an exasperated curse when she found Solas uncharacteristically absent from his usual haunt.

“Fuck!” Gayle loudly cursed, not caring who heard her. She was always trying to get him out of here. Typical that the one day he decide to wander off was exactly the time when she needed him most.

“Ah, do I hear the musical call of our most glorious leader? What's the matter, lost your hobo apostate lover?” Dorian's face appeared over the railings, giving her a quizzical stare. Gayle knew she couldn't waste time looking for Solas, and Dorian was just as accomplished a mage in his own right.

“I need your help Dorian. Please, it's urgent!”

“Alright. Stay there and I'll come down.” Gayle heard a rustle and then the steady drum of his feet on the stairs. As his head came into view, he shot her a curious look and then grimaced. 

“Why do I suddenly get the feeling that I'm going to regret volunteering my help?” Dorian walked to her side, glancing over her flustered figure. “And why do you look like you've tumbled down a mountain to get here?”

Gayle grabbed his hand as he made to smooth down her mussed hair and started to drag him towards the door. She could straighten herself out once Cullen was alright. She reached out and began to open the door when Dorian's arm shot past her head, slamming it shut again. Turning with a curse, Gayle found herself pushed back into the door, hemmed in by Dorian's body as he ducked his head and pressed his lips against hers. His eyes were as wide with shock as her own but he only pushed his body harder against her, using his knee to try and pry her legs open as he worked his lips and tongue against her mouth.

Shit! Gayle thought. She hadn't seen Cullen and Dorian together once all day. The only link between the two would appear to be her. She thought back, raking through everything she'd done that day and then remembered the pickles. They must have been laced with something or poisoned. Which would explain why her body was so eager to betray her, she had to scratch on the door behind her to stop from rubbing against Dorian's leg. Well this might just be one of the worst presents ever.

Dorian pulled back panting and laid his head against the rough wooden frame behind her. She could feel his hands flex and squeeze around her waist as he struggled to control himself.

“Venhedis. I can't...hold back much longer. You need to run. Get Cassandra and...ugh!” Magic crackled off him as he gritted his teeth and began to pound the door with his fist “Get Vivienne. Don't touch anyone!” 

Dorian wrenched himself back, staggering into Solas's study as Gayle whipped around and bolted out the door. More people had gathered back into the hall and she dashed through them, careful to avoid touching anyone. She gazed up at the platform overlooking the hall.

“Vivienne!” Gayle's voice was edging on hysterical now. She didn't have time, she needed to find a cure for whatever the hell was in her before she was fighting off half of Skyhold. Vivienne sauntered to the bannister, peering over as she look down with disdain.

“Is there a reason you're screeching for me like a master for his lost mabari, darling?” 

“There's no time! You need to help me I...ooft”. A body slammed into her from behind and she managed to get her hands up to stop from smacking face first into the floor. A head, Gayle didn't know whos, pushed itself into her hair, hot breath and grabbing hands heavy against her skin. A sharp snap, like the crack of ice, split the air and she found herself freed, a loud shout echoing behind her along with the crashing of plates. In a heartbeat Gayle was scrambling up and running for the door. She focused on what Dorian had said, she needed Cassandra. Maybe her skills as a Seeker could undo whatever it was.

Gayle slid gracelessly through the entrance doors and began to lope down the steps into the courtyard. Cassandra would be training, she always did at this time of the day. Luckily, this held true, Cassandra being far more reliable than Solas. Gayle spotted her sparring with Krem as she reached the base of the steps and began to run over to them, now breathless with panic and the burn of her blood throbbing through her body.

“Cassandra!!!” 

Cassandra dropped her shield, looking a little stunned as Gayle ran towards her. Krem stepped forward, hand out as though to catch her and Gayle quickly side stepped him, wheeling round to face Cassandra instead.

“Inquisitor!” 

“I've been poisoned...or drugged or...something. Cullen and then Dorian. Couldn't stop them. Just behind me. You need to fix it.” Gayle knew she made little sense but it was hard to get the words out between gasps. “I think I have to leave.”

“Poison?” a deep voice echoed behind her. Bull! Oh god, where did he come from? Gayle flinched and quickly jumped away from the direction of his voice but he had managed to get closer to her than she thought. Even as she stumbled back, he covered the distance between them in two long strides, palms forward like he was trying to calm a spooked horse.

“It's alright Boss, it's just me. I'm not gonna hurt ya.”

“Get back! Don't touch me.” she spat in reply and Bull's brows lowered with confusion and hurt. Gayle felt a pang of guilt but brushed it off as she circled around, looking for a quick exit. Cassandra and Krem just watched, baffled.

“You don't understand.” she pleaded then, softer. “It'll take over and you'll attack me.” 

Before she even finished her sentence, Bull's nose twitched as his eyes darkened. Gayle tensed at the sight and turning, bolted back to the stairs. Maybe she could make it to the stables and get out on her hart. It might wear off if she's not around, or Vivienne will have found a cure. She couldn't stay here. The sound of thunderclaps came from the main hall, accompanied by more shouting. Looking up, she saw people rushing out and down the stairs. One of them ran straight towards her, the kitchen hand Orias, his face red and an unmistakable bulge in his trousers. Gayle dove to the ground, rolling out of his path and looked up just in time to watch Bull lob him through the air. As she got back to her feet, Bull's huge body hit hers, tumbling her back into the dirt, the crushing weight of him knocking the wind from her lungs. If she wasn't dead at the end of all this, Gayle knew her back would be mottled with bruises for weeks afterwards.

Bull pushed his head against her neck, his mouth hot against her. Gayle gave a loud yelp as she felt his teeth clamp against her flesh, puncturing the skin. Cassandra's face appeared over Bull's shoulder and with a curse, the warrior grabbed onto his horns and tried to pry him off her. 

“Sirtalis Eros” Bull growled as his head was hauled back. Gayle took in his face, already flushed as her blood trickled down his chin, and for the first time she contemplated reaching for her hidden knives. He looked like he was going to tear her apart and devour her.

“Krem.” Bull suddenly bellowed. “Get over here and drag me off. Seeker, get every female guard and make an escort. The Inquisitor needs to leave now!” Krem grabbed one of his shoulders and together, he and Cassandra heaved Iron Bull off Gayle.

“What in the Maker's name is going on?!” Cassandra grunted as she pressed her weight against Bull's chest to restrain him.

“They call it Ardour's Fire.” Bull was really straining now, spitting his words between gritted teeth. “It's bad shit, made from a kinda snake. Takes over, drives you mad with lust.”

“Is there a cure?” Gayle saw the answer in his face as he shook his head.

“You gotta wait it out. It'll run through your body, burn you up until it clears from your blood. I'm sorry Boss.” He really looked sorry too, and sad. Heartbreakingly sad. A beat later and his soft expression was replaced by a dark hunger and with a roar Bull jerked forward, sending Krem and Cassandra flying. Gayle darted back, barrelling through the crowd that had gathered, knocking people aside. She sped under the main stairs and rushed down the steps, heading straight for the stables. If she could get out, there was a small patch of forest a few hours ride into the mountains. Making it there in one piece, she might be able to outlast this.


	3. Chapter 3

Gayle noted that the stables seemed empty and she nearly laughed with relief. She slipped into the stall holding her hart, the animal eagerly turning his beautiful head towards her. Dodging his antlers and giving his flank an affectionate rub, Gayle decided that she'd forget the tack and ride bareback. It would be sore but she didn't have time to attach everything and Swiftwind had quickly learnt to respond to her voice.

“Down.” Gayle put a hand on the hart's shoulder as it began to lower itself to the floor.

“Can I fetch your saddle and bridle, my lady?” Blackwall appeared at the pen's door, his burly frame blocking her escape. Gayle bit back a curse. She had forgotten about him in her haste.

“I'm fine...ah...yes. Could you get them. Quickly.” She tried to calm her voice but it sounded strangled.

“Are you alright?” He took a step forward. “Maker's breath. What happened? You're bleeding.”

There was nothing else for it. Gayle threw herself onto Swiftwind's back and slapped it's flank. The hart quickly rose and she clung desperately onto it's broad neck. As they clattered out of the stables, strong hands grabbed onto Gayle's legs and her grip slipped as Swiftwind reared up and threw her. Landing into the hay with a heavy grunt, she heard the pound of the hart's hooves as it bolted away. A looming shadow blocked out the light and she felt Blackwall press down on her, his beard scratching over her face as he latched his mouth over hers. He was so strong and heavy and Gayle was too tired and sore to fight him off, the pulsing blood filling her head and groin in response, dulling everything except the need for release and the curling fear in her stomach.

A pulse of magic threw Blackwall from her and she heard him swear as he hit the ground. Opening her eyes, Gayle blinked and then Solas was there, leaning over her, his face etched with a peculiar mixture of worry and anger.

“Are you hurt, emma lath?” His cool hand slid over her face, cupping her cheek.

“I tried. I'm so sorry.” Gayle felt tears prick her eyes as she waited for Solas to change. She had wanted him for so long, but he always held back and she had never pushed, content enough to steal gentle kisses and the soft caresses of his hands and eyes and his laughter against her ears. Now even that would be ruined, ripped apart by the cruel venom in her veins. He didn't change though. Instead he slowly helped Gayle to her feet.

“We have to get you into the keep, quickly.” he said as he guided her out of the stables towards the castle. Gayle leaned against him, dazed and more than a little confused.

“I need to leave.” She whispered. “I've been poisoned, I have to...”

“I know.” Solas cut her off. “Cole came to fetch me, he explained what has happened.”

“Cole.” Gayle repeated. She looked up into Solas's face as he led her back towards the stairs. “You've found a cure? Is it a spell? Or do you know a potion?”

He didn't look back at her, his eyes trained onto the distance, face unreadable. Gayle could hear shouting, the clash of fighting as they approached the tunnel leading back into the training yard. People were running around in a panic. One guard made to grab her but Solas snapped his hand out, magic launching the man through the air.

“There is no antidote.” he calmly replied as he led her under the arch and into the mayhem now ensuing in Skyhold's grounds. Cassandra had managed to gather a good number of female guards, both in armour and civilian clothing, and they had formed a half circle, hemming off the stairs to the main hall. Men surged against the human barrier, frantically pleading as they were pushed back by shields and hands. Just beside the tavern, Gayle could see the Chargers trying to pin Bull down, using their bodies to bear him to the ground.

Solas rounded the steps and pushed Gayle up ahead of him as he shouted back to Cassandra to follow. There was a cry and then the line shattered, the figure of Varric tearing towards them. With a snap, Cole suddenly appeared, clinging to the Dwarf's back and tripping him to the ground, a tangle of legs and arms.

“Run!” Solas shouted and Gayle didn't need to be told twice, both of them flying up the stairs with Cassandra and a few of the guards close behind, trying to outpace the wave of maddened men that rushed to follow. Diving through the hall doors, they turned and began to push them shut, Cassandra using her shield to knock back the first body that tried to push through while two of the woman sealed the doors shut with a heavy beam. The pounding of fists on solid wood echoed through the halls as they caught their breaths.

“Clear the hall.” Cassandra snapped. “Cover the entrances. Make sure no-one enters.”

Gayle followed the guards as they ran into the throne room, taking in the devastation. The tables were tipped, chairs and plates scattered over the floor. Burn marks marred the stonework. A few people were stood near the dais. Solas stepped up beside her as she approached the group and she could hear Cassandra's laboured breaths close behind.

Cullen was bound on his side on the floor. He'd lost his armour and his clothes were dishevelled, his face a dark red as he struggled and panted against his restraints. Dorian was beside him, a cage of purple magic around his torso and legs. He looked rabid, his hair wild with sweat and his robes askew. Leliana stood over them, her hood down and a dark bruise forming on her brow. Josephine was at her side, one of her sleeves torn from her shoulder. Vivienne stayed a few steps away, as pristine as usual, her staff glowing with magic as she towered over everyone, disdain curling her lip.

“I do hope you have an explanation for this...darling.” She flicked her staff through the air to indicate the situation. “Not that I mind putting the Tevinter in his place, but it's made a rather unfortunate mess.”

“The only reason you're standing is because I restrained myself.” Dorian hissed. Vivienne's eyes flashed at the challenge.

“Enough!” Solas shouted over them.

“Inquisitor, what's happening. Are you hurt?” Josie stepped towards her. “We heard shouting and found Cullen in the corridor going wild. And when we followed him into the hall...it was madness. We could barely restrain them.”

“Ardour's Fire.” Solas responded and he turned to stand in front of Gayle. Vivienne's eyes widened and Leliana gasped.

“It seems you have made some very powerful enemies for them to dare attack you in such a manner.” Vivienne stared at her, visibly concerned.

“For someone to do this...they must wish to not only destroy you, but to completely disgrace the Inquisition.” Leliana supplied. “Imagine the reaction when Thedas finds out that the Herald of Andraste was attacked and raped to death by the men under her command.”

“It matters little.” Solas's clipped voice cut through the conversation. He turned to Gayle, his expression trained to a neutral mask, though his jaw pulsed and clenched. “Did anyone other than Blackwall kiss you?”

Gayle lowered her eyes, a rush of shame colouring her cheeks as he regarded her quietly. She didn't know why she felt this way, she'd done nothing wrong. Still, having to admit this to _him_ made her feel queasy.

“Vhenan.” His voice was softer but she still couldn't look at him.

“Cullen, in the hall and then Dorian, when I came to get you.”

“What about Varric and the Iron Bull?” he replied.

“I only touched Varric when I asked him to get Cullen. Bull bit me.” Gayle tilted her head to show the red mark on her neck.

“Cole.” Solas called into the air. A few moments later he appeared, a curl of shadow stirring the air beside him. “Find Blackwall and Iron Bull. Bring them here through the gardens. Make sure no-one follows you.”

Cole stepped back with a nod and then vanished.

“What I'm curious to know is how you have managed to stay so unaffected, apostate?” Vivienne gave voice to the question that was currently burning through Gayle's mind. “Assuming you are indeed male and not a demon like the Inquisitor's pet, you aught to be a prone on the floor in a fit of unrestrained passion by now.”

“Do you know a way to undo the effects? Are you using your magic to shield you?” asked Leliana.

“It is...no. There is no cure nor any magic that might dispel the symptoms.” Solas shifted a little.

“Then how are you...?” Leliana replied.

“It is a matter of willpower.”

“Indeed it is not.” Vivienne countered, “Ardour's Fire, when ingested by a woman, is enough to turn even the most pious Chantry Brother into a gibbering wreck with lust. You would have to be completely without a trace of sexual desire in you to be so collected.”

Gayle closed her eyes as Vivienne callously hit on her own deepest fear. Suddenly so many things about their relationship made sense. Is that why he had been so hesitant? Why he would always pull back, never lingering too long against her, never stepping beyond the tight controls he placed around them when they were together? Had he only kissed her because he knew it's what she had wanted? Did he only spend time with her due to some perceived duty or obligation? Or so as to not hurt her feelings? Did he think she'd cast him out if he didn't? Gayle's heart hammered unsteadily against her ribs as the questions crowded in her head. How could she have been so horribly blind.

“You would do well to hold your tongue on matters you know nothing of, Enchanter,” Solas's voice cut the air like a blade.

“Is that a threat apostate?” Vivienne retorted as a crackle of magic hummed around them.

“Enough!” Leliana's voice rose enough to echo through the hall. “This is not helping! We are left with only one option then.”

Gayle opened her eyes at this. Finally someone was offering a solution.

“Two options, Spymaster.” Solas countered.

“You would let Cullen and the others die?” Leliana's voice was low and clipped.

“Die? What do you mean die?! Bull said that it would burn out, that I just had to wait and the poison would clear my body itself.” Gayle's heart was pounding again. She looked down to Cullen and Dorian who were both still on the floor. There eyes mirrored her own fear.

“The poison will indeed leave you unharmed after some time, my dear. However, those who have had...intimate contact with you and have absorbed the concoction into their bodies, it builds inside their system until their hearts give out from the stress.” Vivienne's voice was neutral but her lowered brow revealed her concern.

“By...coupling with the person who is poisoned, the side effects can be controlled long enough for it to leave the body naturally.” Leliana added, stepping forward a little.

“So I...what? Have to sleep with every man in Skyhold?” Gayle sputtered, completely incredulous at the thought.

“No!” Leliana interrupted, “As Vivienne said, only those who got closest to you. Cullen, Dorian, Blackwall and Iron Bull. You would possibly have to copulate several times...”

“Or not at all!” Solas's voice was almost a snarl now.

“And let them die instead?” Gayle turned to him, looking up into his face. He had smoothed it back into a neutral expression, but his eyes were dark and his mouth clamped down into a hard line.

“I would only wish for you to be presented with all of the options, Inquisitor.” he replied.

So this was it, Gayle thought. She couldn't remember the last time Solas had called her by her formal title instead of the soft Elvhen endearments he had begun to use. She knew that her choice wasn't over the lives of her friends alone now, it would also decide her fate with the man she loved. There was never really a question though, in truth. She would give her life to save her friends. She would throw away her heart too, if she must, and the thought of it nearly crushed her. A loud crash as a side door down the hallway flew open, drew everyone's attention from her. Krem appeared, dragging a heavily chained Bull with him as Blackwall followed close behind, Cole straining at his back to keep him restrained.

“Alright.” Gayle turned back to Leliana, trying to look confident and assertive while inside, she was sure she might vomit.

“How do I...I mean, we, eh...” Shit, so much for sounding in control.

“I would suggest your chambers, Inquisitor.” Leliana reached down to help Cullen up from the floor. Josie just stood there, silent and wide eyed, her warm skin drained of colour. Cassandra didn't look much better.

“You can't.” Cullen rasped. He looked horribly ill as he got to his feet, his body shaking from the exertion, sweat pouring down his face. His eyes though, were firmly set on Gayle. “Solas is right. You can't do this...I would never forgive myself.”

“I'm not losing any of you. I don't care if no-one can look at me afterwards. I don't care if none of you respect me again. All I care about, is that you'll live.” In her mind, there was no debate. Turning, she made her way towards her chambers without a backwards glance. Gayle heard the shuffle of feet following her as she slipped through the door and began to climb the stairs. This was possibly the most surreal moment she had felt since she first fell out of the Fade at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's smut time folks. Sweet, sweet smutty smutness.

As she opened the door into her chambers and crested the top of the stairs, Gayle was struck by the memory of when she was there last. She and Solas had spent the previous evening together. He was reading some dusty old tome on the couch and Gayle had lounged against him after completing her reports. Later, she picked up her lute and tried to figure the chords to an old song she use to like, singing snatches of the tune as she played. By the time she had the song completed, Solas had fallen asleep. Carefully placing everything aside, Gayle had cuddled against him and drifted off herself. It had been quiet and utterly perfect and, Gayle realised, the last moment like it that they would ever share together. She choked down a sob that threatened to bubble from her chest as the others slowly entered the room, moving to the window as the sun made it's decsent from the sky.

A cough drew her back from her thoughts and Gayle turned to see the room now crowded with people. Leliana, Vivienne and Cassandra were the only other women, the others obviously deciding it better to remain behind. Cullen and Dorian swayed unsteadily on their feet. They both looked completely drained and neither struggled. Blackwall still strained at the ropes that held him, Cole keeping a surprisingly firm grip on him as Cassandra held him back with a hand to his shoulder. Bull grunted and puffed where he stood, but he didn't move, his eyes were shut and it looked like he was trying to meditate. Solas was nowhere to be seen.

“One of us should stay to ensure your safety Inquisitor.” Leliana said. There was a pause as no-one volunteered for the position. Leliana looked like she was about to speak again before another voice cut her off.

“I will remain to protect the Inquisitor.” Solas appeared at the top of the stairs.

“No...” Gayle's voice was a whisper as she shook her head. This was going to be hard enough already. The thought of him there watching her, despising her, as she gave herself to other men was too much to bear. 

“It is not something I am willing to debate.” Solas ignored her. “There may be more men making their way into the castle as we speak. You will all be needed to guard the entrances until everything settles. Someone should, however, stay close to the door in case it is needed.”

“I will.” Cole said, his pale eyes fixed on Solas.

“Very well. Cullen, with me.” Solas took Cullen by the arm, pulling him back until they stood between Gayle and the others. With a twitch of his staff, Solas placed a shimmering blue wall in front of them. Leliana, Vivienne and Cassandra left without a word. Cole stayed, still struggling to contain Blackwall's flagging strength. Letting go of Cullen, Solas walked over to Gayle's large four poster bed. He untied the red velvet drapes and let them drop closed, hiding the mattress behind. He never looked once in her direction the entire time.

“Though it will be difficult, you must try to restrain yourself as much as possible.” Solas's words were clipped as directed his instructions to the men behind his barrier. “If you hurt the Inquisitor in any way, I will not hesitate to kill you. Am I clear.”

“I wish you would just kill us now and be done with it. Better that than to let us lay a hand on her.” Blackwall was slumped now, unresisting against Cole's hold.

“That is not my decision to make.” Solas replied, his voice a little strained. 

The silence stretched on then, with no-one saying a word. Cullen groaned and wobbled on his feet. Before he could fall, Gayle shot to his side, wrapping her arms around his torso to support him as she led him over to the bed. Ducking behind a curtain, she laid him down on the soft covers. She could feel his body tremble and convulse under her hands. Rolling him onto his side, she untied his ropes. 

“It's alright.” Gayle whispered, though she realised she was trying to convince herself more than him. Easing Cullen onto his back, she began to rub the circulation into his arms as she looked down on his face, his features contorted in pain “Everything's going to be okay. You're going to be okay.” 

After a seconds hesitation, she leaned over and smoothed a gentle kiss on his forehead, his skin hot and slicked with sweat against her lips. Scooting up on the bed beside him, Gayle rested one hand beside his head and laid the other over his chest. She could feel the wild thrum of his struggling heart against her palms. She was suddenly frightened that it could be too late, that he would die beside her before she could help. Panicked, Gayle pressed a harder kiss against his lips but Cullen didn't respond. 

“Cullen, please. Cullen!” she pleaded between each kiss. “You've got to try. Please. Cullen. Don't give up!”

Gayle was surprised at her own strength as she tore down the front of his linen shirt, exposing the smooth skin of his flushed chest, tentatively placing a kiss over his heart. She heard a rustle of fabric and then a large hand buried itself in her hair, tangling into her loose braid. Cullen pulled her up as he wrapped his other hand round her waist, crushing Gayle against his body. A hungry mouth found hers, his brown eyes now open and burning with need as his tongue lapped against her own, like a man dying of thirst.

With a sudden movement, Gayle found herself on her back as Cullen used his weight to push them both further up the bed, wedging his knees between her legs until they opened wide enough for him to fit his hips flush against her own. She could feel the press of his length rubbing against her thigh through the fabric between them and her body pulsed hot wetness in response. In the tinted light that filtered dimly through the heavy red curtains, Gayle watched Cullen's face as his expression softened and his gaze cleared. He broke their kiss and pushed his face against her neck, both of them gasping for breath as their bodies continued to rub against each other thoughtlessly.

“I'm so sorry.” he stammered against her skin, his voice small and broken. “You should have killed me. I sometimes thought...I sometimes hoped that maybe...never this though. I never wanted it to be like this. Mm..Maker forgive me.”

Gayle stroked her fingers through the coarse curls of his hair as the true meaning of his confession settled over them. She wondered how long he had felt that way for her. It mattered little now though, she realised. Many things would be destroyed today, least of all any affection he might hold. Perhaps it would be for the best.

“Shhhh” she whispered, drawing him up to look into his eyes. “You need to stop thinking. You may not have much time. Please, Cullen, you have to try.”

Pressing another kiss to his scarred mouth, Gayle began to unbutton her top. After a moment, Cullen returned the kissed fully, his tongue frantically exploring her mouth as he knocked aside her hands and tore through the material, exposing her body. Kneeling back, he caught the waist of her trousers in his fingers and in one quick movement he peeled them from her legs and threw them aside, the pull of the fabric taking her underclothes with them. The poison had taken over them both now, blood pulsing red fire through their heads until everything was muffled with unbearable need. 

Cullen pulled down his own breeches as he lowered himself on top of Gayle, her hips lifting to meet him. She felt the head of his erection brush over her slick folds, parting her lips as he pressed the smooth bulb against her opening. He paused again and they both trembled with anticipation. The air was unbearably hot and thick with the smell of sweat and musk and the ragged breaths pulled from their lungs.

“Forgive me.” Cullen's stubbled chin brushed against her ear and then he pushed in, the force of him arching Gayle's back, her feet kicking and scrabbling against the sheets as she clung desperately to his arms. He filled her, heat and the aching stretch of him inside her causing them both to groan in response. Cullen barely paused before pulling out and swiftly pushing back in, sheathing himself fully and Gayle could feel him swell and stiffen further inside her. He began a slow rhythm of thrusts, his cock jerking as he entered and the head of him hitting that spot against her, the one that built a deep pleasure through her belly that grew and seeped into her bones with every touch. He pressed open kisses down her cheek and jaw. As another moan escaped him, he pushed his face against the base of Gayle's neck and she leaned back, exposing her throat as he brushed his lips and tongue along it. 

After a few minutes, Cullen began quicken his pace, his thrusts becoming fast and deep and slightly erratic. His hands trailed over her damp skin, tracing the curve of her hips, smoothing over the round of her ass before trailing down to her thighs. He lifted these, pushing them up as he entered her even deeper. He raised his face to hers then, their open mouths brushing as they panted in unison for air, Cullen's dark eyes fixed on her own. Gayle took in his features, the furrow of his brow now smoothed, his eyes deep and hooded with lust and she thought he looked younger in that moment than she had ever seen him before. 

Then the pleasure in her lower body flared and she found herself sucked down into it, closing her eyes as the rolling waves of ecstasy spread up through her spine and down her legs till her toes curled. She could feel her muscle walls around Cullen's length tighten and pulse, each one raising a thrill through her body before ebbing back down to her throbbing clit. She wasn't sure if Cullen had shouted a prayer or a curse, her ears were filled with a static buzz, but she felt him jerk and thrust hard against her as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. She felt the spasms and the wet spurt of him coming inside her body, each one pulling a shaking gasp from his throat. Then everything was silent, the only sound was the quickened beat of their hearts against each other.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really hard to do right and not make it either totally horrendous and unbearable or completely unbelievable. I hope I've hit the right balance with the characters.

Cullen just held Gayle like that, softening slowly inside her body but making no attempt to pull out. The prickle of his chin was rested against her brow, his arms keeping the full weight of him from crushing her. Their heartbeats slowed in unison as the seconds lulled into minutes, and for a moment Gayle wondered if he had fallen asleep. Just as she was about to lift her head to check, he shifted and lowered his face to her instead. Cullen looked drowsy and content, the ruddy colour of his face fading except for the glow that still lingered in his cheeks. Gayle reached up to brush a wet curl of hair back from his forehead.

“Feeling better?” Gayle asked, feeling a little stupid the moment she said it. She couldn't think of anything else to say. Cullen's eyes sharpened a little as he seemed to pull himself out of his reverie.

“Ah...yes. I feel, good...eh well, great actually.” He blushed a little, his stammer returning as he realised the situation. He pulled himself up, slipping out of her as he knelt back. Gayle could feel the drip of their mingled release slide down her skin and onto the bed. Cullen stared at her for a second as she lay sprawled out under him, only her breasts now concealed by her band, and when he realised, he coloured even deeper, sheepishly averting his eyes as he shucked his trousers back up over his waist.

“Cullen.” Gayle whispered. She wanted to make things better, to make him see that it wasn't his fault or hers. There was nothing they could have done to prevent this. She found though, that the words wouldn't pass her lips.

“I should go. The others...it's really painful.” he mumbled and without looking back, he slipped off the bed and behind the curtains. There was silence and then the doors to her balcony opened, letting in a cool gust of wind that rustled the drapes and pierced the clouded air around the bed.

“Dorian” Solas's voice was barely a murmur and Gayle realised to her horror that he would have heard everything, every sigh and groan and slap of flesh against flesh. She wanted to sink under her covers and disappear but instead, she wrapped her arms around her knees and waited.

The curtains twitched and then moved and she watched as Dorian's figure slumped through, perching himself on the edge of the bed, the drapes still a little opened. He looked a mess, not quite as bad as Cullen but close enough. His usually coiffed hair was tangled and his moustache was frayed and twisted. Gayle tried to think of something to say, but instead she just blurted out the first thing that came into her head.

“You look like shit.” She winched at her own stupidity and tried to think of something better to say.

“Yes well, I was unsure of the grooming etiquette that's expected when you're drugged, about to die and forced to rape your only friend. Frankly, it's not an occasion which occurs often in Tevinter.” Dorian was aiming for cutting snark, but his voice wobbled and cracked at the end. Gayle got up, shuffled forwards and pressing herself against his back, she wrapped her arms around his chest, holding him tight. She brushed a gentle kiss to the warm skin of his shoulder and then rested her head on him. Dorian gave a shuddering sigh as he rubbed his soft hands against her arms.

“I know. Seems this drug hasn't made me any better at inspiring speeches.” Gayle thought it best to aim for humour and she won a small chuckle from him in response.

“How...how are you?” He turned to look at her and Gayle pulled back so he could see her better.

“I'm okay. A little sore but otherwise.” She raised her hand and smoothed down the his hair. He closed his eyes for a moment. “It helps. Takes the fire from your blood. Helps you to think.”

“I may need a little guidance. I'm not exactly experienced in this ah...area.” Dorian broke eye contact, looking back out into the room.

“I know. We'll just try and figure out something. Find a way to make it less awkward. Maybe you can close your eyes and imagine I'm a gorgeous, buff man with a nice ass.” She shuffled back onto the bed, the cold air coming through had begun to bite at her exposed skin.

“And what will you think of?” he replied, turning back to her and letting the drape drop when he saw her shiver.

“Well, I'll have the finest example of Tevinter good breeding in front of me. Not sure what I could dream of that would match that.” She flashed him the best smile she could muster and the corner of his lips twitched as he crossed the bed to sit beside her.

“True.” he admitted. “Sometimes I almost forget how ravishingly gorgeous I am. Until I see a mirror that is. So what should I...what would you like me to do first? As I said, I may need your help.” Sweat was still dripping from his brow and Gayle realised that he must be using all of his willpower to restrain himself.

“Kissing seems to help.” Gayle said. “Think there must be something in my saliva that helps to sooth the pain.”

“Oh, well that... that sounds a little disgusting really.” Dorian grimaced and she couldn't help but laugh. He leaned forward anyway and pressed his lips against hers. After a moment, she watched as his eyes glazed a little and then he was working his mouth against hers, tilting his head to coax her lips open as his tongue flicked against hers. He moaned deeply at the contact, a rich guttural sound from low in his chest and then his arms were around her, pulling her body onto his lap.

Their lips worked against each other for a few minutes, tongues dancing and twining, the scrape of Dorian's moustache tickling the top of Gayle's lip. Then he broke away, breathless, his face a little less strained as he leaned his forehead against hers

“That is better. You could use a little more stubble though. Oh, and a penis.” Dorian's eyes had a little more spark to them now. He almost seemed himself and Gayle hoped that maybe, just maybe, their friendship would survive this.

“I'll get to work on that.” she replied. For the first time, Dorian let his gaze drop, following the lines of her body. His eyebrows raised a little as his gazed lingered between her legs.

“You're very smooth. Remarkably so. As I said, I'm no expert but I thought woman had a little, ah, coverage.” He was unashamedly staring now, brows furrowed in thought as though he were examining an unusual artefact instead of her vagina. Gayle blushed and tilted his chin up with her hand so he would look at her face instead.

“It was an accident, when I first got to Haven. The hairs prickled against my armour and it annoyed me so I ah. I was given a balm. By Josephine actually.” Gayle made a mental note to never accept another gift from Josie ever again.

“Was it meant to take all your hair off permanently then?”

“No. She forgot to give me the other potion to neutralise it.” Gayle started to laugh as she remembered and soon Dorian was chuckling too. “You should have seen me, running around Haven in only my dressing gown, battering on the locked Chantry door, my legs bright red and burning like I'd set them alight. I thought I was going to burst into flames right there. I had to go to Solas and then...”

Gayle's laughter died in her throat at his name. He had taken in her in then, knowing her for barely more than a few weeks, while she sat on his bed with her legs swollen and blistered. He had made her a healing poultice which he soothed over her skin, taking away the pain and reducing the swelling. When he asked her why she was still wincing, she had flushed and requested he turn his back while she dabbled the liquid between her legs. When she told him he could look again, the amused smirk on his face had made her want to run from his cabin and die in the woods. Instead, he wrapped her in a blanket and gave her a little stew from a kettle by the fire, asking her questions and telling her stories until her embarrassment had faded and it was late into the night. Gayle stared at the point in curtains which concealed Solas from her, wondering if he was thinking about that night too. Her throat tightened at the thought and she suddenly found it hard to breath.

“I'm sorry darling.” Dorian stroked his fingers through her hair, peppering her forehead with little kisses. Gayle shifted slightly on his lap and the sudden pressure of his erection pulled her back into the moment. In a strange way, she was almost grateful to have something to focus on instead of Solas.

“I have an idea.” she said, slipping from his lap. Dorian looked a little perplexed.

“I hope it doesn't have anything to do with burning my hair off.”

“No, no.” she tutted back, rolling her eyes. “I was just thinking that you might not have to...well have sex with me. I mean, not really. Maybe if I took you in my mouth, it would be enough. It seems to work when kissing so it's possible...”

“And you would be okay with that?” he asked, looking a little unsure.

“Nothing about this is exactly okay Dorian, but it might be more comfortable, for you and for me.” Gayle reached out and rubbed a spot on his knee. “I don't want you to hate this any more than you have to. I just want to make sure that we all get through this with losing as little of us as we can.”

“Alright. If, if you think it'll be easier, I'm willing to try. Not to frighten you but I'm starting to feel a little weak already.” He put a shaking hand over hers and squeezed.

Drawing forward, Gayle reached out her hand to unclasp Dorian's armour at the shoulder. The leather slid down, revealing the taunt golden muscle underneath. Gayle had to admit that he really was stunning.

“I know it's hard not to gape but I really would rather not die of a heart attack while you oggle my perfection.” Dorian taunted her as his hands loosened the belt about his waist, though she could tell that he was a little please at her reaction. Gayle gave his nipple a pinch in retaliation which made him hiss and then chuckle. As he peeled the leather down over his legs, Dorian's erection sprang up, his cock already swollen and glistening. Gayle noticed that his foreskin had been removed and when she reached out to touch the exposed head, Dorian gave a little moan at the contact. He looked down at her, eyes liquid now and noticing her puzzled face he explained.

“Tevinter tradition. Nothing to do with anything deep or meaningful like religion or health. They just think it looks better, makes us more 'perfect'”

“Oh.” Was about the most Gayle could muster as a response as she settled into a more comfortable sitting position in front of him. She trailed her fingers up along the smooth skin of his shaft, following the pulsing veins as she circled the wet tip with a finger. Dorian had closed his eyes and Gayle wondered if he was imagining her hands belonged to someone else. For a brief moment, she wanted to ask him, but she pushed the thought away. They had wasted enough time and Gayle remembered with a jolt that there were others than just Dorian suffering.

On that thought, she lowered her head and wrapped her mouth around his length. He wasn't as big as Cullen but she still knew her jaw would be aching later as she ran her tongue over the salty skin. Dorian jerked a little and Gayle put her hand against the base of his shaft, the trimmed curls rubbing against her as she pushed down to hold him. He was panting now above her, one hand squeezing her shoulder while the other scratched through her hair. Gayle worked him with her hand and mouth, trying to remember the last time she had performed this kind of act on a man. She had been young the first time, fumbling and blushing, not sure what to do. She wasn't a flustered youth anymore though, she had lived and lusted and been with men before, back in another life. She remembered the things that would drive her previous lovers to distraction and decided she would test their effectiveness on Dorian.

Now that he had stopped jerking, Gayle let the hand on the base of his cock brush down, curling her fingers round the heavy curve of balls, tracing their line and pausing to cup and knead them. As she did that, her other hand slid up and down his shaft, trailing the wetness over his slick, smooth skin. When she got to his base, she squeezed a little and twisted, pulling her hand back up the length of him as she pulsed little bursts of pressure with her hand. All the while she suckled his head, flickering her tongue in feather-light licks against the underside ridge where his shaft met the head.

This seemed to have more than the desired effect and Dorian was crying out now, his muscles spasming over his abdomen and up his neck. Gayle couldn't see his face, his head was thrown back and she felt the air spark and fizzle with electricity. Dimly, somewhere over Dorian's shouts, Gayle heard someone calling Cullen's name. Then the air cleared, everything stilling except for the buckling Mage squirming under her. Gayle could feel him engorge in her mouth, his balls pulling up out of her hand as everything tightened and she knew he was near the edge. Remembering another trick, she slipped her hand further down his body, pushing it under his scrotum as she gently rubbed the pad of her fingers against the skin just behind his sack.

Gayle was pulled up by Dorian's hands just as he released and they both tumbled back onto the covers. She had managed to keep grip on him and even as she lay against his chest, she continued to work her hand over and over as he released, foreign words, whether curses or praise, colouring the air. Eventually he quietened and she released him. There was a little hum vibrating from the back of his throat as they both lay there. Gayle realised that her bedsheets were going to be ruined by the time this was over.

Eventually Dorian opened his eyes and looked down at her, a little quiver of a smile on his face.

“Well, I think I may have a few questions for you, after all this. I may also want you to write some things down for me. For the sake of posterity, you understand.”

“Alright, but no names.” she gave him grin and he chuckled.

“You wouldn't happen to have a robe, would you. It seems I came unprepared for post orgasmic lounging.” he sat up a bit, gathering his crumpled clothes from the bed.

“In my wardrobe. Help yourself. Not sure you'll find one your size though.”

“Oh, I'm sure I'll cope.” Dorian leaned forward and gave her another little kiss on the head. “By the way, you are quite spectacular.” He smoothed a hand over her cheek and then slid from the bed into the room beyond. She heard the drawl of his voice as the wardrobe door clattered open.

“Oh, and you can drop the purge now Cullen. I'm rather safe from setting us all on fire.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks for all the lovely feedback. I'm pretty amazed at the number of hits this got in one day. You gloriously filthy readers, you make it all worthwhile. Like our poor protagonist, I'll try to keep my energy up for whatever comes (ha!) next.

The air in the closed off bed was stifling now and heavy with the scent of sex. Gayle leaned over and pulled aside the curtain that faced directly onto the stone wall, the parchment notes she had pinned into the mortar fluttering. As fresher air leaked in, Gayle noted the quality of the light now reflected off the wall. She felt like this had been going on for hours but realised that it was probably only early evening still. Grabbing a corner of her bedding, she wiped down her skin, trying to clean herself as best she could. She would need a good, long bath after this and maybe ten bottles of the best wine in the cellar, as a start. Gayle thought that she'd also need a healer. The bruises on her back and the rest of her body were aching. She felt like she'd been trampled by a herd of druffalo.

"Iron Bull, I believe you are next." Solas's voice made Gayle snap to attention. 

Bull. The Iron Bull. The Iron Fucking Bull. Gayle felt all of her courage drop out of her stomach and pool somewhere around her toes. She had seen some of the staff and barmaids at the inn, watched them totter out of his room on their lunch break, hair wild and clothes askew with this little flushed grin on their face for the rest of the day, the slight bow-legged walk as they served people giving away the source of their contentment. At least they had actually walked out of his room, instead of being carried out in a stretcher. That made Gayle feel marginally better. Then she realised that he wasn't fuelled by some mania inducing sex drug during those sessions. What little ease she'd gained fled as quickly as it came.

"I'm okay for now. Blackwall needs it more." Bull's voice sounded impressively clear. Gayle felt a little tingle of relief. She knew that it would only be a delay but she still couldn't help feeling grateful for it. She just hoped that he wouldn't be even wilder when it arrived to his turn.

"If you are sure. Blackwall then."

Gayle shifted and lifted a pillow, setting it over her lap as she fidgeted with the corners. Blackwall was still a bit of an enigma to her. He was quiet and restrained, sometimes acting like a chivalrous knight from one of Cassandra's stories and other times he was as loud and bawdy as Sera. As the drapes twitched and his wide shoulders slide through, she wondered what side of him she would get.

"My lady." Blackwall's voice was so husky and low she could barely make out the words as he slid onto the bed. 

"It's okay..." Gayle was about to give him the similar reassurances that she'd soothed Dorian and Cullen with, but she was cut off when he tore across the space between them and threw himself on top of her. Gayle yelped in surprise, dropping her pillow as Blackwall's huge hands grabbed and squeezed over every available inch of her flesh, his mouth clashing against her own with lips and teeth and tongue. He pulled her down under him, wedging her under his bulk as he groaned loudly. Pulling back, his eyes roamed her figure, hands following in their wake, as he cupped her breasts and then he tore through her banding, pushing his bearded face against her exposed cleavage with a grunt. 

Gayle was completely dazed by his voracity. She wasn't sure what she had expected but it certainly wasn't this. Blackwall was muttering as he laid sloppy kisses under the curve of her breasts, sword-calloused thumbs rubbing and plucking at her nipples. Despite the roughness, Gayle felt her stomach warm and her body clench and leak as his beard scratched over her skin.

"Maker but I need you." he growled low. "I've wanted of this...oh but I've wanted this. Dreamt of this. You're tight, sweet little body under me."

Gayle flushed even further as he spoke. She knew that it wasn't uncommon to think about having sex with the people working alongside you. Hell, she'd wondered about what it would be like with some of them as well, even if her mind always drifted back to Solas. Hearing it spoken out loud as they bury their face in your cleavage though, that takes things to a different level altogether. Also, the fact that Blackwall appeared to be a talker was making Gayle feel even more embarrassed. The last thing everyone needed to hear was a running commentary. She was about to pull his head up and muffle his mouth with a kiss, hoping that it would quieten him and quell his lust, when he moved his mouth over one of her nipples and sucked down so hard that she yelled out in pain.

The air shifted, magic closing in around them and humming through the air menacingly. "Blackwall!" Solas's voice sounded like a clap of thunder and she knew that he was crossing the room, most likely with the intention of flaying him alive.

"No...it's okay. I'm okay." she shouted, her eyes shut and praying that he wouldn't throw the curtains aside to find them like this. Instead there was a second of silence, Blackwall still kissing her breasts as though oblivious to his impending doom, and then she felt the magic in the air recede, though she noted that it didn't disappear entirely. Gayle grabbed a handful of Blackwall's damp hair and she pulled him up to her face, holding his hungry mouth back from latching onto her while she stared at him.

"If you're not gentle with me I'll bind you until we're finished, am I clear?" She levelled the threat at him and sighed when he moaned wantonly at the suggestion, rubbing himself against her faster.

"Forgive me my lady, I know that. I'm sorry, I'm not worthy of you. I'm sorry." Blackwall pushed his face into the crook of her neck as he mumbled his apologies, the hard bulge of his desire pressing against her somewhat negating much of the sincerity. "It's just your tits. Maker save me, you've the most beautiful fucking tits I've ever seen." 

He was working his mouth back down towards them as he spoke, like a hound tracking it's prey. Gayle realised that she would have to take control of this and quickly. They may be stuck with this situation, but that didn't mean she had to let him use her like a piece of meat. With a kick of her legs for leverage and a heave, Gayle rolled Blackwall onto his back, pressing the weight of her body down on his shoulders as she straddled his waist. 

"Warden-Constable Blackwall." she snapped in her best authoritative voice. "You will restrain yourself and follow my instructions. If you do not, I'll kick you out onto the balcony myself until you either freeze to death or your heart gives out, whatever comes first. Am I clear?"

Gayle could hear Dorian snicker from the room outside but she ignored it. She knew he'd be using this to tease her some day. At least she could retort with him nearly electrocuting them both. Blackwall's eyes cleared a little though she felt his cock twitch under her in response.

"Yes Inquisitor." he groaned back and she let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Deciding it would be best to get this over with quickly, Gayle dropped her hands from his shoulders and raising herself up a little, she dragged his trousers down to his knees. Meanwhile, Blackwall had stripped off his padded vest revealing the broad plains of his chest, muscled and scarred and covered in a thicket of hair. He was impressively built, especially for his age, with no paunch or fat in sight. Gayle grabbed his erection and he gasped and threw his head back at the touch. She noted that, while average in length, Blackwall had a rather impressive girth. She gave him a few pumps with her hand, each one accompanied by a guttural moan from him, his eyes now fixed on her every move. 

"Oh fuck, that's good. Oh...oh Maker you're beautiful." His hands were all over her body, rubbing and squeezing over her thighs and hips. As Gayle lowered herself onto him, he gave a shout and bucked his hips to meet her. She moved up with the thrust, stopping him from impaling her, and put her hands on his stomach, just above his hips, and pushed down with the full force of her weight. He settled again, panting and mumbling slightly incoherently to himself as Gayle adjusted and slid down till their bodies joined together and she felt the scratch of his coarse black hair against her sensitive clit. Taking her time, Gayle set the pace of his thrusts, using the strength of his hold to angle herself as she felt the aching pleasure of him as he rubbed and stretched inside her. Apart from moaning a string of colourful and varied expletives, Blackwall had calmed a little, relenting control and allowing her to do most of the work. His dark eyes and hands roamed over her, one large thumb settling on her nub as he rubbed in time the thrusts. Gayle had begun to quicken the pace as they both rushed towards their climax, the air filling with the slap of their flesh together and the his curses. Blackwall reached his release first, spurting and twitching inside her as he thrust, his voice suddenly lost as his neck and jaw clenched and strained. Gayle rode him through it, her own climax spreading out from her lower body, a tingling trickle of heat over her skin. 

After a few breaths, Gayle pulled away from him and lay to his side. She was exhausted, filled with a kind of bone deep weariness that she hadn't felt since they had first trailed around the Hinterlands, closing rifts at every corner and fighting mages and templars alike. She closed her eyes, knowing that Iron Bull was still to come. She tried to buoy herself up with the thought that they might let her sleep for a little while afterwards, that what they'd done so far could keep the burning away for a least a few hours. Blackwall moved beside her, the mattress creaking under his weight. 

"My Lady?" his voice was soft and filled with worry. "Are you all right? Did I injure you at all?"

Gayle rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes. He looked horrified and she felt a wave of pity.

"I'm fine, don't worry. You didn't hurt me." She gave him a little smile and reached over to pat his arm.

"I am sorry my lady. You saw me at my worst, little better than an animal. You deserve more than that, than this..." He looked around the bed, his face contorted in a frown.

"If there's one thing I've learnt Blackwall, it's that we're all animals in a way. At least, no matter what, you know that deep down you were still a soldier, still disciplined enough to follow orders." 

Blackwall's face lightened a little at that and he even managed a smile. "I guess there's always that, if nothing else. I'd best take leave of you my lady." he said, gathering up his clothing before rising to his feet and padding across the room, out of sight. 

Gayle just lay there, closing her eyes and breathing. She figured that Bull wouldn't be particularly perplexed to find her like this. She had a sneaking suspicion that he's left people in a much messier state.

"Iron Bull" Solas said after a few minutes and Gayle felt her stomach fill with a cold wash of fear. She wasn't one for religion, having never believed in the stories of the either Gods or the Maker, but in this moment, as she heard the heavy sound of his footsteps nearing the bed, Gayle found herself whispering a little prayer that whatever was to come, she'd make it out without losing any vital body parts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to any Blackwall fans who may feel this isn't quite an accurate portrayal. I just wanted a bit of variety to the characters and their reactions to keep it interesting. Next up, Iron Bull. Poor Gayle, she won't know what's hit her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here he is. The Iron Bull. Hope he was worth the wait. Not going to lie, this was pretty fun to write.

Gayle heard the curtain twitch, saw the darkness on her eyelids lighten a little as the mattress suddenly dipped with Bull's weight on the edge. There was a few moments of silence. Gayle felt her muscles tighten, her hands flexing and working at the covers as she waited for him to start...well, whatever. She didn't want to think too much ahead. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed and didn't see what she was facing, it would be easier. His breath was laboured, heavy bellows as he pulled the air into his chest and when he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly. 

"Be back in a minute Boss, just need to get some things."

Gayle's eyes flew open as the bed creaked again and she saw the tip of his horns snag on the drapes as he left. Things? She began to really panic, her heart stammering as she struggled to breath. What the fuck was he going to do with her? This was meant to be about performing the bare minimum to keep everyone alive until this poison wore off, not an introduction into the world of kinky Qunari sex.

"Hey Kid." Bull's voice rumbled through the room.

"Yes?" Cole's reply, soft and slightly watery, wavered nearby. 

Oh God, what did he need Cole for? People called him her pet, dismissed him or avoided him, wary eyes following wherever he went. Instead, he had become a symbol of everything that she fought for. She watched him as he struggled, his only wish and joy in easing the pain of those around him and she couldn't help but adore him for it. Cole had soon found himself to be the main outlet for all of her care and affection. He had squirmed uneasy at first, confused and a little frightened by her attempts to look after him. When he realised that it made her feel better, that by letting her care for him he was allowing her to channel out the aching loss of her own family, filling the role of her beautiful niece and nephew who she once lavished her heart on, he relented and accepted her coddling. Gayle had no idea what Bull was up to but he'd have more chance of convincing her to bed Corypheus than let Cole see her like this.

"Good, I need you to get some stuff for me. I need..." 

"I know what you need." Cole cut in.

"Ah...good. Soon as you can kid."

There was nothing after that. Gayle assumed that Cole was now gathering whatever weird contraptions Bull used in his escapades. It made her shiver to think what those could be. She heard shuffling from the outer room, the clink of glass and the thud of wood that sounded like her cupboard being opened and closed again. The waiting, the cold tremble of anticipation and dread in her stomach was almost more than she could handle. Lying there, her skin slightly cooling, was near torturous. She wished he would just get in and get it over with. The unknown made her feel sick.

"Hey vint. Heat this up for me, would you?" Another clink and a rustle.

"Er...all right." 

Gayle choked down a protest. Why wasn't anyone questioning him? What the hell was Dorian heating? Solas should be warning him, threatening him, why didn't he speak up? Unless he had stopped caring, unless he thought she deserved it. Pain. Humiliation. Maybe she did.

"I got what you asked for, except for this. It's different from what you wanted but she'll like it better." Cole's voice was hesitant. 

"Good work kid. I'll take it from here." Gayle heard the scraping of ceramic on metal, the dull sound of heavy footsteps approaching the bed and she shut her eyes again, even more tightly this time, clamping her legs together like a vice as though it would protect her. The bed creaked under Bull's weight, tilting. He had settled whatever he was carrying down on the bed, the clatter of the...things making her wince. She felt him shuffle closer. Her stomach tightened into a knot that was almost painful. She couldn't swallow, her throat was so dry. Bull placed a huge, calloused hand gently on her shoulder. 

"You'll want to sit up for this boss. It'll be more comfortable that way."

Gayle nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She let him lift her up, massive arms wrapping round her body as he pulled her onto his lap. He settled her down so she was sitting across him, her shoulder against his heaving chest. She shifted a little to get comfortable and felt the top of her thigh press up against his erection. She gulped and nearly whimpered. It was still covered in cloth but she could have sworn it felt more like an arm against her side than a penis. Gayle tensed, her fingers digging into her own legs. She wanted to bolt out of the room and launch herself over the balcony.

"Relax boss. You're okay. I gotcha." Bull had softened his voice to a gentle whisper, the sort you would use to sooth a sobbing child. It was strangely appropriate. She couldn't feel any smaller or more helpless as she was at that moment, perched next to wall of muscle and horn, of both kinds. He smelt differently from the others, a spicier musk with a slightly metallic tang that reminded Gayle of fresh blood on a blade.

Bull leaned forward a little and his massive bicep brushing past her. There was a sound of splashing water, a rustle of cloth and then something warm and wet slid over her shoulder and down her arm. Gayle opened her eyes and turned, surprised, as she watched Bull drag a wet muslin square over her skin, his hand, easily large enough to cover her skull and crush it with a twitch, gently cupping the soft material as he ran it over her arm. Letting her eyes roam across the bed, she spotted a tray and nearly laughed when she saw what was on it. A large bowl, her washing basin, lay to one side, clear water curling steam into the air. Beside it was a couple of bottles, one containing a vibrant green liquid that looked suspiciously like a healing potion. The other was a deep amber in colour, the vial small and ornate. Beside them was a wine bottle, it's label obscured and a goblet. There was a little plate covered in her favourite treats. Sticky honeyed swirls with little flecks of salt on the top, an addition she usually added herself because others thought it was strange. That soft, white cheese rolled in wild garlic and herbs, already smeared on top of crusty bread, torn not cut. Pink apples, tart and zesty, sliced wafer thin. Her mouth watered at the sight. There was a soft cotton robe and a towel beside the tray. Gayle wondered if maybe she was imagining it, her mind sinking into fantasy to forget the reality. Craning her neck up to look at Bull, he was watching her face, a slightly amused smile tugging at his mouth as he stroked the wet cloth in little circles round her arm. She lifted it slightly and he dragged the material over the inside of her arm and then curving, he followed the line down her side to her waist.

"Not what you expected boss?"

"Where's the rope?" she replied. That made him laugh, a deep chuckle that rumbled up through his chest.

"I don't think you'd appreciate that right now. Maybe some other time." his eye glinted and he moved to dip the muslin into the bowl of water, wringing it out in his massive fist. Gently, he laid it on her back, at the base of her neck, and with soft pressure he drew it over her skin, cleaning away the dried sweat and relaxing her muscles with each pass. She could feel the bruises that mottled her torso now, the pain in sharp relief against the caresses of the cloth, and she leaned her forehead on his chest as she winced. He stopped and she heard the plop of the cloth falling back into the water. 

"Here, drink this." She turned as he pressed the edge of a glass vial to her lips and tilted it, the familiar grassy scent and bitter taste of elfroot and spindleweed coating her mouth as she gulped it down. The stuff was vile, her stomach instantly protesting against the mixture as it always did. Gayle tried to stifle her gag reflex. She'd sometimes just accept the pain of bruises when they were out travelling, rather than force the potion down. Solas would berate her until she did, chiding her for being so immature even though she had caught him chocking on the stuff more than once. Sometimes, when the others were out of sight, he would bribe her with the promise of a kiss, his delicious mouth and tongue sweeping away the foul taste till she was groaning and panting against him. He was always unbearable smug when he left her like that, a mewling wreck, all flushed skin and glassy eyes. It was worth getting hit for. It was worth drinking the damnable shit for. It was worth everything.

"Ugh." Gayle spat, working her mouth to try and reduce the taste. 

"Here..." Bull handed her a goblet and she quickly took a gulp of whatever was in it, trusting that nothing could be worse than what she had just swallowed. It was crushed white grape and elderflower cordial. Delicious. She had found a little farm not too far away from Redcliffe and the woman there had given her a few bottles when they closed a breach near her homestead. Gayle was sure she had greedily consumed every bottle. She wondered where Cole had found this. It didn't matter, it was perfect. She drained the goblet in a few gulps and sighed against Bull's chest as he picked up the cloth and continued his ministrations. After a little while, Gayle let her eyes wander back up to his face, taking in his stubbled, scarred features with wonder.

"How have you not cracked and torn me apart by now? Isn't it burning you? You look almost, well, calm."

"An old Qunari meditation trick. They teach you it early in your Ben-Hassrath training. It's to help you keep your mind focused and your will unbroken under torture. Turns out it's pretty handy for this kinda shit too. Don't get me wrong, it doesn't take the pain away or anything. It just helps you control yourself more." Bull turned her body so she was sitting with her back to his chest, her front exposed. He dipped and wrung the cloth again, and then gently swiped it down her breastbone and over her stomach, following the curve of her hips. "'It doesn't help control you as much when there's a beautiful, naked woman on your lap though. If you were tortured with that, I'd have gotten myself caught more often."

"Why are you doing this though?" Gayle wondered aloud. "You could have taken what you needed to feel better and then left. I wouldn't have minded. You don't have to be in pain, that's not what I want."

"Yeah, I know. That's just it, you're always giving. All the time. You throw yourself into helping folk, tearing yourself apart to fill the little painful gaps in other people, never thinking about yourself." A plunk, the splash of water on ceramic and then the cloth was curving over her breasts, easing gently over her tender nipples. "You think I didn't notice the papers stuck to the walls. All the names. All the people under the care of the Inquisition, right there, the first thing you see when you wake up in the morning. And over by the stairs, the list of the dead, the families they left behind, the last thing you see as you leave to face the day and the first thing that greets you when you return. You put too much on your shoulders. No-one can carry that weight without it crushing them."

"Someone has to remember. Someone has to keep count." she replied quietly as Bull began to clean her legs, leaning them both forward a little as he wiped up her calves and behind her knees. 

"Why? Every war has it's casualties. You can't change that."

"When all this is over, when this war is finished and the Inquisition is disbanded, I'm going to raise a monument with each of their names engraved into it for all of Thedas to see. I'll do it even if I have to carve the names into the stone myself. Then the people will see who died by my actions, they will stand witness to lives that I sacrificed, and they will judge me, as surely as I judge those who fall before my throne. They will decide whether I was a hero or a tyrant. It's such a fine line between the two, I'm not even sure what side I'm on any more."

Bull dragged the cloth between Gayle's legs, gently cleansing her swollen lips and the spend that had slipped out over her skin. He gave a low little grumble in his throat as he tossed the now dirtied muslin aside.

"Lie down flat on your stomach." he requested quietly. Gayle took a second to stretch, the healing potion had already eased the pain in her body and she couldn't help but give a little happy sigh at the feeling. Sliding from his lap and laying herself over the last clean stretch of bedding, Gayle closed her eyes and relaxed. There was a pop of a released cork and then a lovely scent permeated the air, rich and exotic like night jasmine and spicy nutmeg. Bull propped up onto his knees beside her and she felt his hands, slippery with something slick and oily, cover her shoulders as he began to massage over her neck and down her back. His palms and fingers pushing into her flesh, the pressure firm but not painful, the strokes loosening muscle and squeezing a little groan of contentment from her throat. As his hands passed over her body, Gayle felt the oil begin to tingle on her skin, a cool prickling that made her shiver with pleasure which made her even more sensitive to the stroke of Bull's palms. It was wonderfully relaxing and incredibly arousing at the same time. After working for a while on her neck, shoulders and back, Bull started on her feet and legs, his thumb working circles over the soles of her feet, over her arches and up her calves. Slowly he worked his way around her thighs and higher still, each pass of his hands brushing closer to the join of her legs. Gayle was wet now, surprisingly so, and she eagerly spread her legs as he drew closer. Huge hands circled over her buttocks, kneading and smoothing the round flesh. A low growl was coming from Bull now and it made her stomach flutter. His hand dipped down between her legs, his fingers parting to slide between her folds, stroking the oil over her tender entrance and swollen clitoris. The sensation of his light strokes and the glittering thrill of the oil made her buck and moan as he massaged her. 

"I'm gonna roll you over now boss." he said as he drew back, leaving her arching and exposed with need. She followed the guide of his hands and opened her eyes to look at him, her vision a little hazy. Gayle watched as he massaged the front of her thighs again, spreading them apart as he lowered himself down between them. She felt the scrape of his stubble on the sensitive skin inside her legs, his warm breath tickling over her wetness and she couldn't help but tremble. Dragging her hands over the base of his horns, she scratched and stroked at the rough surface, gently nudging him down as she mouthed the word 'please'. Bull gave another little grumble in acknowledgement and then she felt the thick, hot length of his tongue press against her and lick a long stripe over her aching heat. She buckled again but he held her down. She was so sensitive and each pass of his slightly rough tongue sent a thrill through her spine. Just as the white, electric spark of pleasure built to an aching height in her clit, Bull pulled back, his tongue settling lower over her entrance, flicking and curling as he drank down the wetness that flooded her with every movement. He had eased his hands up her torso, rubbing over her stomach and gliding firm caresses around her breasts, his thumbs circling and brushing her nipples. The low, fiery burn was building deep in her belly as he licked around her lips and into her heat, his tongue curling to nudge and tickle her inner muscles. As she felt her heat coil, tight and almost painful in intensity, Bull dropped his hands and pulled out his tongue, replacing it with a thick finger as he pressed his mouth over her aching nub and sucked down hard, flicking quickly against it until everything exploded into a blinding white light. 

Gayle shouted and her back arched as a wave of orgasm tore through her, tightening the muscles in her abdomen until she was curling in on her self, gasping. Then the second wave hit, knocking her flat, her legs scrambling and stretching as Bull licked her through the pleasure, each stroke shaking her body until she was too sensitive. He pulled back then and her hands dropped. Both of them were breathing heavily and Bull was still huge and engorged, his erection sticking out threateningly towards her. He made no move though, just looking down at her as she pooled out onto the mattress, her head still buzzing. 

"Don't you want to...?" She nodded to tent in his trousers. After that, her body was almost liquid she was so relaxed. If she was ever going to take him, now would be it. He gave her a grin and shook his head, his massive horns making the gesture even more pronounced. 

"I'm alright boss, if you are. Plus I figure you might need a break down there, let that healing potion do it's stuff. This'll more than keep me going for a while." He grabbed her fallen goblet and picking up the bottle, he filled it with the golden cordial before passing it towards her. Gayle shuffled a little further up, leaning against the headboard as she took the cup and gulped down the drink. Bull picked up the wet cloth again, the water now cold, and he cleaned quickly between her legs, careful not to brush to hard against the overly-sensitive skin. He took back the empty cup when she was finished.

"Get some sleep." he said and she gratefully slumped down at the order. Bull collected the bowl and cloths but left the food.

"Thanks Bull...for you know, taking care of me. It was really nice." Gayle actually felt a flush of redness creep into her face as she said it, slightly embarrassed to admit how much she enjoyed being looked after. Bull just smiled, a little sadly and winked his one good eye in response.

"No need to thank me boss. It was definitely my pleasure." He gave her another smile then, this one far lewder, and she laughed as he pushed through the drapes and out into the room. Letting her head drop back, Gayle stretched cat-like and gave a contented little moan as she closed her eyes and let the creeping exhaustion steal over her mind as she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Weren't expecting that, were you?! Turns out Bull really does give you what you need. I have an idea for the next chapter and it's so dirty that I'm afraid if I type it down my computer will spontaneously combust and I'll be immediately sucked down into hell. It's still not going to stop me though. I'm a big fan of warm places.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I've really been debating over whether to actually add this chapter or not. When writing the last few pages, a really dirty image came into my head and I dismissed it immediately. Of course, because of that, I now haven't been able to think of writing anything else BUT that. Such is my sick puppy mind. So I'm doing it. Damn it all! 
> 
> This may either make or break this fic for you guys but lets face it, if you've gotten this far I'd like to think that you're all just as filthy as me. If not, I'll provide some cyber wet-wipes to clean your minds with afterwards. It's in two parts because I think the set up is just as important. Also, the comedy value is priceless. Please don't hurt me!

Jeez it was cold. Was it snowing? Did someone leave the tent flap open? Gayle scrunched up her face as a shiver pulled her from sleep and she scrabbled to yank her bedroll around her. Instead, her hands tore along thin sheets, her skin prickling in the chilled air. Where the hell were her clothes? She always wore thick, warm garments to sleep when they were travelling. Voices murmured outside and the familiar earthshaking snore of Blackwall reverberated in the air. Crap, she'd never get back to sleep now. It was the first rule of camp; get to sleep before Blackwall does. Opening her eyes, she waited a few minutes for her sight to adjust to the darkness. Memories flooded back as she began to make out the posts of the bed, the tangled wreck of her covers around her feet and the dull ache in her stomach. 

Oh.

Yes.

That.

Gayle propped herself up on her elbows, looking down at the length of her exposed body. To the side of her was the plate of food Bull had brought and one of her robes. It was the plain one, quilted wool and lined with cotton, dull beige but cosy. Good. Gayle rolled to the side and grabbed it, sliding the fabric over her goose-bumped skin and tying it tightly around her waist. Just as she shuffled further down the mattress to glance into the room, she heard Dorian's thin, irate voice seep through the drapes.

"That's it! I'm going to set that lumbering oafs beard on fire. As if all this wasn't uncomfortable enough without his landslide inducing snore. I'm surprised half of Skyhold hasn't fallen on our heads by now."

Gayle slid the curtains open and poked her head into the room. The fire had burnt low and it was fully dark outside the windows. Dorian was sat by a candle at her desk, dressed in one of her more elaborate silk robes gifted from Orlais. He had obviously cleaned up, his hair was back to shining perfection as he flicked through one of the books she'd found on Dwarven culture. Blackwall was sleeping on the floor, wrapped in one of her spare blankets. On the balcony, Gayle could just make out the shape of Cullen, and as she watched, she saw him shuffle at...wait, was that papers? Was he actually outside reading reports and doing paperwork? Ugh, the man was impossible. She couldn't see Bull.

"You should. I'm getting bored. Watching a flaming Warden beat the crap out of you would could make for a good distraction." Bull's voice came from her left hand side, concealed by the bed. He must have taken up residence on the couch. Gayle couldn't see Solas. She wondered if he had left. She wouldn't have blamed him.

"Ah, you're awake. How are you feeling my dear?" Dorian rose from his chair when he spotted her, navigating around Blackwall as he walked towards the bed.

"I'm...okay. How long have I been asleep?"

"Oh, only two or three hours. Did Blackwall wake you? I'll happily make a living ice sculpture out of him, if you'd like." Dorian sat down on the edge of the bed and scooted towards her until their shoulders bumped together. 

"No, I'm fine. I just wanted to check on everyone. How are you feeling? Is it...gone?" She looked over the fine features of his face, searching for any obvious discomfort or pain, but he looked reassuringly normal until his brow pulled together in consternation.

"Ah well...not quite I'm afraid. But it's not so bad. Hopefully it'll pass before I'm reduced to a slavering wreck." He reached up to smooth back her hair. It was undone now, wild and tangled in sweat soaked curls that fell down her back. It would be hell trying to get it under control again. Taming Gayle's hair was an exercise in futility, like trying to put lipstick on a dragon, only you were far more likely to lose a hand. 

"Anyway," Dorian said, quickly giving up on the task. "I will have died of starvation before then. Not quite the dramatic heroes ending I had envisaged for myself..." 

"Ugh. You're so melodramatic." She couldn't help but roll her eyes at him.

"Yes, but it's part of the reason why you adore me so." he retorted, bestowing one of his brilliant smiles on her. Gayle reached up and gave him a fond peck on the cheek before motioning her head to the curtained bed behind them.

"Well, it's fortunate for you that I happen to have some _petites gourmandises_  in my boudoir." She said the line in her best Orleasian accent, making sure to flutter her eyelashes as she retreated inside. 

"Ah, trying to get me into bed again? I was afraid that I might have ruined you for other men." Dorian ducked his head past the curtain and shimmied up beside her. Leaning over he grabbed one of the honeyed pastries and took a bite, sticky crumbs gathering in his moustache and the little tuft of hair under his lip. He spoke again through a mouth full of half chewed bread. "As it is, you've got me. I'd sell out half of Tevinter for a good bottle of wine and another dozen of these things."

"You've been in the south too long Dorian. You're getting more like Blackwall everyday." Gayle brushed a hand over the mattress as emphasis, trying to push the crumbs onto the floor.

"Egads, don't say that! I nearly choked." He looked around for something to wipe his face with. Seeing nothing, Dorian then proceeded to rub his mouth on Gayle's shoulder, laughter rumbling through his throat as she squealed and swatted him in protest. "What? That dressing gown is so horrendous it's barely even fit to be a napkin. I can only assume you either bought it as a cruel joke or as an effective form of birth control." He nabbed a couple of slices of apple as she poured out more of the cordial.

"I currently have four men in my bed chambers. It's obviously not being as effective as hoped." She stopped midway through pouring, suddenly struck by a horrifying thought. "Oh no, I never thought of that. What if...what if I get pregnant?"

"Relax Boss." Bull's voice piped up from outside. "I got Cole to bring up some Witherstalk extract. Tastes like shit though and can make ya sick. You might wanna leave it until the morning, just in case."

"Hmm yes, vomit most certainly wouldn't improve this situation any." Dorian swiped the cup from her hand and gulped down a few mouthfuls.

"Would you like to join us Bull?" Relief had loosened the knot in Gayle's stomach and instead she felt a pang of guilt at forgetting he was still awake. "You must be hungry and you are, after all, the provider of the feast."

"Oh typical, and just when I was beginning to enjoy myself." Dorian whined.

"Sure, saves sitting around listening to the Vint eat it all." The curtains pushed aside and Bull thumped down on the bed, his weight suddenly tipping the mattress and sending Gayle, Dorian and the plate flying. He laughed, watching them struggle up as he plucked up the food that had slid down towards him and began to pop it into his mouth.

"Fasta vass! You did that on purpose." Dorian had miraculously managed to keep his cup from spilling, though, given how often she'd seen him drunk, Gayle figured he had plenty of practice. "I bet you're enjoying this. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you slipped that poison to our beloved leader yourself, in the hopes of having your wicked way with her."

Gayle could tell Dorian was joking but Bull still gave a low growl of disapproval at the accusation. 

"I don't need poison to have my wicked way with anyone. I just need my shirt off and twenty seconds of eye contact." With that Bull fixed Dorian with a smouldering look, a deep rumbling growl in his throat. Gayle watched with amusement as Dorian glowered, hesitated and then began to flush under his gaze, colour rising up over his neck and heating his cheeks. This had been going on for a while, the back and forth between the two. It was inevitable and they both seemed to know it, enjoying the their own game of cat and mouse. She had seen Dorian watch Bull when he thought no-one was looking, a strange mixture of curiosity and lust darkening his eyes as they traced the lines of Bull's back and thighs. For now though, a combination of bickering and flirting seemed to be the preferred method of seduction.

"As for enjoying it? It's a pretty crappy situation, one that some people are going to die real slowly for, when I find them. If you can turn it around, make the best out of it, give and get a little release then shit, why not? Sex can be a whole lot of different things to different people and right here, it's a cure. If you have to swallow down the medicine, you might as well enjoy it."

"Well, I suppose that's one way to look at it." Dorian conceded, taking another swig from the cup.

"Shit! You're thinking about it, aren't you?!" Bull sounded delighted and Gayle suddenly found herself lost. What had she missed? She turned to Dorian who was spluttering through a mouthful of juice.

"I err...yes, but not really. I mean...I know it's not me, it's this damnable venom inside me. Normally, I would be no more inclined towards...that, than I would be to shoving my cock down Wyvern's gullet." He crinkled his face in disgust and Gayle suddenly understood what they were referring to. 

"Wait a second. Did you just compare my er...bits, to a fanged lizards beak?" She wasn't sure if she should laugh or punch him. Instead she tossed a bit of cream cheese topped bread at him and watched in satisfaction as it left a splodge of white on his cheek. With a tut, Dorian leaned over and wiped his face on her other shoulder, smirking when she tried to bat him away. 

"It was a generalisation darling. I'm sure your lady parts are all sunshine and rainbows. As for thinking about it...well, I must admit that I have a slight academic interest."

"Why? Thinking of submitting a paper to the Imperium Archives?" Gayle swallowed her chuckle as Dorian considered her, his head tilted and his fingers trailing over his chin, as was his habit when he was deep in thought.

"I severely doubt my findings would be accepted there. Perhaps they would be more suited to being published in the Randy Dowanger." he said with a laugh and then his eyes settled again, still laced with curiosity. It was Gayle's turn to blush, feeling strange under his scrutiny. He couldn't really be serious, could he? Would she even do it if he was? They had managed to weather the previous situation well enough, but this seemed different somehow. Less about life threatening necessity and more about satisfying an intellectual itch. It was hardly sexy. Not that the previous instances of _"Arrrggghhhh I'm going to die unless you screw me."_ were up there in her sexiest moments either. This may be the strangest day of her life and she had physically been in the Fade. Twice.

"We'll need a watchword." Bull said, his one eye all lit up with excitement. Dorian sputtered as they both turned to stare at him incredulously.

"Firstly, the Inquisitor and I haven't even agreed on this." Dorian's voice was a little higher than usual. "Secondly, at no point was it ever mentioned that you would be involved. I'm not even sure what we'd do with you."

"Strange, I was pretty sure you've had a few ideas about what you could do with me. Or maybe, just what I could do to you." Bull's grin stretched wide and Dorian seemed to be momentarily at a loss for words. "Anyway, you'll be needing a little instruction. I doubt you even know what to do with a woman. I'd hate for our Inquisitor to lose an eye just because you don't know what direction to point your staff in."

"I...why you...urrrgghhh. You are infuriating." Was the best Dorian could articulate. "Anyway, if a lumbering savage like you can figure it out, I'm fairly certain I can wrap my mind round the task."

"A good start would be thinking less about wrapping you mind round things...and more about wrapping your tongue..." Bull had shortened the gap between them until they were nearly face to face in front of her. "Around. Things."

Gayle watched the exchange, head switching back and forth between the two of them. This was...wrong. Weird. Inappropriate. Incredibly hot. Wait...what? She had found herself leaning forward too, her lips parted a little as her lungs suddenly forgot to work properly. Bull broke the stare, leaving Dorian a little dazed and glassy eyed before fixing a look on her face with a smirk. 

"What do you say Boss, up for a little adventure? If you're not into, just say the word and we'll leave you be. But..." Bull leaned towards her at this, his face tilting a little as his mouth brushed feather-light strokes over her lips until she was gulping desperately for air. "...if you are up for a little fun, I promise that you won't regret it."

Gayle found her head was bobbing up and down in agreement before her brain had even processed the words. What the hell?! Was she actually going to do this? Was she utterly mental? What if Blackwall woke up? What if Cullen heard? Why were all those thoughts making her want to do it even more? Bull growled his approval and then captured her mouth with his own. She hadn't kissed him yet and she was surprised at how soft his lips were, at how gently he worked his mouth over hers as his tongue playfully teased her own. Then it deepened and she was lost. He tasted slightly electric, each lap and nibble sending a little spike of desire up her spine and into the back of her head, making everything fuzzy. She was going straight to the Void for this, she just knew it. For the moment though, she couldn't care less.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff-hanger. Or Smut-hanger. Not sure what you would call it. I'm writing the next part at the moment. I'll try not to leave ya'll waiting. If you haven't stormed off in disgust that is.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Hope it hits all your buttons and maybe even finds a few you never knew you had. I stayed up late to complete it (seriously, it's like 4.48am here) because I didn't want to lose my mojo. As it is, I'm all mojo'ed out and if there's any really unforgivable spelling errors or bits that make absolutely no sense, then I'm sorry and I promise that I'll tidy it up tomorrow once I've slept. Thanks for the comments and encouragement, I doubt I would have dared this far without all your little devil voices on my shoulder, urging me along. It's much appreciated.

Bull broke the kiss first. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he had to physically hold her back from him as she scrabbled to close the distance. It took a few seconds of panting to get the oxygen back into their bodies. During that time, Gayle realised that she had, at some point, climbed up onto Bull's lap, wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed a hold of his horns. She quickly dropped her hands the moment she realised. Bull just chuckled.

"Not wanting to douse your passion Boss, but we need to talk rules." Picking her up by the waist, he peeled Gayle from his torso and popped her down on to his knee. "Now, watchwords. I'll let you pick the word Boss. It has to be something you'd never shout out by accident. Something you'd never think of when you're...excited." He purred the last word into her ear, giving her a little nudge with his nose.

Gayle tried to clear her head. She wasn't one for shouting anything during sex, if she was honest. Then again, she'd never done anything like this. There may be exceptions to every rule. She thought of words she hated the sound of like 'phlegm' or 'plectrum'. Ugh. No. Then it hit her.

"Pickles" she replied.

"Ah...right. There's a story behind that somewhere, but for the moment, it works for me. Is it okay for you Dorian?" Dorian was reclining back on his elbow, rather leisurely finishing the last of the cordial.

"You mean, am I likely to scream out "pickle" in the middle of some rather inventive sex? Ah, no. I believe it may be the last word on my tongue." he smirked, grabbing up the plate and goblet as he rolled over to the edge of the bed and placed them on the floor.

"It's decided then." Thinking that was the end of it, Gayle proceeded to undo the clasp on his shoulder, fingers working at the metal buckle. A huge hand swallowed both of hers, a slight squeeze putting a halt to her efforts.

"I'm not done yet Boss." Dorian laughed behind her.

"Here, let me help you with that Bull." Dorian wrapped two tanned arms around her waist, drawing her off of bulky thighs and into his silk lined embrace. He pressed his face into her shoulder and gave her a playful nip at the base of her neck. "I never would have guessed you were such a wanton minx. And there was me thinking you couldn't get any more delightful."

"I know." Gayle leaned back, reaching up to stroke the soft, short hairs at his nape. "I surprise myself sometimes. It's all your fault anyway. Wait until I confess to Mother Giselle what the naughty Magister made her Herald do. And with a Qunari heathen no less!"

"Ha! Can I be there when you tell her? That clucking old hen would actually lay an egg. It would be marvellous." They were both giggling now at the thought. While Gayle rather liked the revered Mother, she didn't have much time for her suspicions or interference with Dorian. It was something that had brought them both closer together, though neither of them would have guessed it would quite lead to this level of intimacy. Maybe she should get her a fruit basket as a thank you. 

"If you two are done yappin?" Bull huffed. He was watching them, a twinkle of amusement in his eye even as he scowled.

"Ugh, fine. Give us your little prep talk before you start to sulk." Dorian detached himself from Gayle's neck and schooled his face into his most serious "listening" expression. She followed suit, pressing her lips together to stop from laughing. Bull growled in annoyance.

"Ground rules. No one will be hurt, unless they request it. If, at any time, either of you feel uncomfortable or don't want to continue, say the watchword and everyone will stop. No questions asked. Understood?"

"Perfectly." Dorian replied. Gayle nodded her agreement.

"Good. Now, where were we?" He reached across and took both of Gayle's hands in his own, pulling her towards him again. Placing her palms flat against his broad chest, Bull dropped one hand to the tied belt around her waist while the other trailed a path down her spine until it reached the curve of her buttocks, palming and squeezing over the firm flesh. Deft fingers undid the robes around her even while she struggled with the heavy buckles that held his armour on. A hot, wide expanse of flesh pressed against her back, smooth limbs slipping alongside her own as Dorian's lean hands took over her task, quickly releasing the pounds of leather and metal with a few short movements. Gayle ran her lips and tongue over the newly exposed skin, stretching up to trace the pattern of tattoos that curled along his arms and onto his chest. Behind her, Dorian eased Gayle's robe from her shoulders, letting the material fall to her hips. Bull pulled back, drinking in the sight of her bared chest.

"Mmmmmm" he purred. "Blackwall was right. You do have beautiful fucking tits."

"Ah yes, ever the poet." Dorian's rueful laugh pressed against her ear. He rested his chin over her shoulder, peering down. "Oh, they do look rather larger from this angle. I must admit, I've always been little curious to know what they feel like. May I?"

"Sure, knock yourself out." Gayle had to laugh. Breasts really did have the strangest effect on men.

"Ah...that would be a good way to go." Bull had a slightly dreamy smile on his face as he watched Dorian's hands slide around her sides to tentatively cup her breasts. He held them for a moment then gently lifted them, testing their weight. He nudge one slightly and then gave a delighted little gasp when it shook at his touch.

"Oh! I never realised they were so wobbly." He began to bounce them, wiggling his hands to make them ripple and quiver, plucking at a nipple to watch it ping back and reverberate. Gayle sighed and patiently waited for him to get bored. "You know, I never could quite understand the fascination with these things, but then again, I wouldn't have guessed that they'd be so much fun. It's almost hypnotising."

After a few minutes Bull grabbed his wrists, stopping him.

"First lesson." he said, in a lecturing tone. "You have to appreciate tits before you get to play with them." He leaned down to take one of her nipples into his mouth, pulling Dorian's hands up so that they were resting on his horns. He nuzzled and licked at her raised points, never biting them which she was grateful for. Her nipples were incredibly sensitive and she'd always hated it when men thought they were a chew toy to worry their teeth on. Gayle turned her head to side. Dorian was still staring down and she couldn't help but brush her lips across the high planes of his cheekbones and down along the line of his jaw. He turned to her, an amused glimmer in his eyes before he met her mouth with his own. He tasted like summer, the sweet crispness of the cordial still coating his tongue and she lapped at him greedily. Reaching one hand back into his soft hair, her other rubbed along his honed thigh, enjoying the prickle of hair as she traced the ridges of muscle with her fingertips. Bull began to trail kisses down her stomach towards her navel, stopping to nuzzle her belly button before straightening up and guiding her away from Dorian, causing her to give a little disappointed whimper when his mouth fell away from her own.

"Lie down here." he instructed and she lowered herself to the mattress between them. Dorian reached out to run a hand down the front of Bull's chest and she saw a little shiver run through him as he licked his lips. "Been waiting to get your hands on me for a while now, eh Vint?" Bull looked supremely smug and she watched as Dorian's face went from slack lust to bridling indigence. 

"I was simply curious to see if you had a hide like a Bronto, or if you only shared the creature's looks." Bull laughed off the insult, shifting closer. Dorian's hand never dropped from his body.

"Remember the last time we talked? I warned you what would happen." Bull grabbed Dorian's upper arms, grey fingers curling round his bronzed biceps. The mage never made a move to struggle, simply looking wide eyed as Bull drew closer and closer to his face. "How I'd tear your robes off while you struggled helplessly. How you'd grab my horns as I. Conquered. You." 

Dorian was gasping now, hands scrabbling over unyielding grey muscle. At the last word, Bull pulled him forwards, crushing a rough kiss to his mouth. Giant hands left his arms to grab at the back of his dressing gown and with one twitch, Bull shredded the silk in two. Dorian shuddered and pushed himself further against the Qunari, shirking off the torn fabric before gripping both hands tightly onto the base of Bull's horns. Dorian's full, golden body was revealed, every inch taunt and sculpted. The sight of him, already partly erect, sent a jolt of hot desire though Gayle. She couldn't think of anything she wanted to do more than to trace every inch of his skin with her hands and tongue. Then she realised with a little thrill of joy that she could do exactly that. Sitting up, Gayle ran one hand down his abdomen, each muscle twitching and rippling with the contact. Her other hand smoothed up the back of his calf, following the curve of his thigh until she ran over the tight round cheek of his ass. And oh, what a glorious thing that was, firm and sculpted, it was begging for a shrine to be raised in it's honour. Instead, Gayle leaned forward and sank her teeth into the honeyed flesh, earning a muffled gasp from above her. She looked up to see Dorian's face staring back at her, a slightly surprised expression melting down into a wicked smile.

"Sorry." she grinned back, laying opened mouth kisses over the red mark she'd left. "Do you think, if I made an alliance with Tevinter, they'd send me a few goodwill ambassadors like you?" 

Dorian laughed. "Darling, there's no-one me like me." He let go of Bull and leant back down to kiss her, the length of his body sinking over hers as she reclined into the sheets, hands roving over every inch of skin she could touch. She parted her knees and he slid his body down between them, the swollen throb of his erection laying trapped between their stomachs. As they kissed, his grey eyes searched hers, looking for something, perhaps hesitation or some glimmer of doubt, she wasn't sure which. Pulling away, she smoothed her thumb over the stiff hairs of his moustache, straightening out some of the tangles.

"What is it?" Gayle placed a little kiss to the tip of his nose and his eyes softened, creasing at the corners. 

"I just wanted to make sure that...that I could...ah. I mean...if you would be alright with us...ah...giving this whole sex business a whirl?"

"Oh Dorian, you with your dirty talk and aggressive demands, you're making it hard for me not to swoon." She giggled up at him and he rolled his eyes in response, catching her bottom lip and giving it a nip with his teeth.

"I'll choose to take that as meaning 'Oh yes Dorian, you pinnacle of glorious manliness, ravish me as no one ever could.'"

"Ah, isn't that what I said?" She smirked and laid a smattering of kisses over his eyebrows as he nuzzled her chin. 

Gaining back his confidence, he moved further down her body, lowering himself as he kissed and licked across her jaw and over her throat. He pressed his mouth to the little dip in her clavicle, teeth brushing along the ridge as his hips slipped lower, his throbbing erection coming to rest between her thighs. She tilted her hips a little and he thrust forward, his length brushing up across her clit. He shifted himself again, this time his smooth tip pushed down, burying itself between her cheeks and over the tight pucker of her bum.

"Eh, I'm afraid I'm not feeling _that_ adventurous tonight." She tried not to laugh as he swore a little.

"Sorry. Force of habit I guess." he mumbled apologetically into her skin.

"Second Rule." Bull growled above them. Gayle jumped a little at his voice, she had forgotten that he was still there. "Don't close your eyes and poke blindly, hoping to hit the right spot."

"Up." he commanded before Dorian could come back with a witty retort. She felt his heat pull away from her as he lifted himself onto his knees, scowling a little at being reprimanded. "When your doing something new, it's good to start out with things that are a little familiar first. In this case, it might be good to try a position your more use to."

Seeing where Bull was going with this, Gayle sat up and turned onto her hands and knees. She even gave her butt a little wiggle in the air and was rewarded by a light slap over her cheeks by Bull. "You catch on quick Boss."

"Mmmm, that's actually quite a good idea." Another hand moved over her tingling skin, and then she felt a jolt of pain as Dorian bit down on her bum, no doubt in retaliation for her previous move. He covered over her skin with sloppy kisses, his hands kneading and squeezing as he moved his mouth up her back, trailing along her spine until his face pressed into the base of her neck. He didn't hesitate this time, and with two quick thrusts he buried himself deep inside her, the sudden contact pulling a loud gasp from both of their throats. It was amazing how quickly the mood shifted, how the teasing air of humour could so quickly burn away to be replaced by nothing but lust and need and the satisfaction that can only be gained by the friction of hot skin on skin. Both of his hands were on her hips, fingers gripping into her flesh as he started a slow rhythm, pulling out nearly completely before thrusting back in, panting searing breaths into her scalp. On his next thrust, she moved back to meet him, rolling her hips and clenching down around him as he pulled out. Dorian bucked, moaning against her as he thrust back in and she did the same again, pulling another little sound from his mouth. He increased his pace and she matched it, tilting her head as he began to work his mouth over her neck, grazing his teeth against the lobe of her ear.

"Ah...you're so wet. I...OH!" He bucked again as she tightened around him. "Yes. That. Keep doing that."

"Shit that's hot." Bull growled behind them and then she felt fingers tighten round her calves as her legs were pushed wider apart. Before she could ask what he was doing, Gayle felt a wet tongue lick up over her clit, rubbing against the stretched skin around her entrance before disappearing. Dorian gave a little gasp and then cried out, his hips slamming forward as she heard a wet smack of lips on skin. Bull repeated the action, a rough finger replacing his tongue as it retreated, rubbing little circles round her nub until her arms gave out and she felt herself tip forward onto her elbows, the weight of Dorian pressing flush against her. They were even more exposed now and Bull seemed to take that as a cue, nuzzling and pressing in further against them, licking and sucking over her clit and up to cover Dorian, the wet smacking and Dorian's groans building a thrill of pleasure through her core. It was all so dirty, lewd to a point that she'd never contemplated before. There was something liberating in being a part of it, exploring herself with people that she loved and trusted, letting them do things that would never have crossed her mind, safe in the knowledge that one word could stop it all. She didn't want it to stop. She wanted to feel Dorian come loose inside her, she wanted to feel his body shiver over hers, to see his face slack and glowing with release.

As if he was reading her thoughts, Dorian's pace started to become erratic, each wet smack of Bull's lips accompanied by him jerking forward, whimpers and shouts tearing from his throat as he bit down on Gayle's shoulder. "I...I can't...I'm going to...oh Maker!"

He jolted again, his hips slamming up against her own hard enough to slightly lift Gayle off her knees, his chest and stomach curling and flattening against her sweat soaked back. She could feel him twitch and swell as he released, each quivering thrust spurting heat inside her, his forehead buried into her shoulder as he moaned and shivered. After a few moments, she felt him slip out of her, his burning torso peeling away from her back as the cool air rushed over her damp body. Gayle collapsed onto her side, turning in time to see Dorian looking down, flushed and dazed, his body rippling as he fought for breath. Bull was just beside him, rubbing a huge palm over his back and then, without warning, he stooped his head down, tilting to avoid catching his horns as he clamped his mouth over Dorian's still erect cock, suckling noisily as Dorian cried out from shock and pleasure, grabbing the horns in a death grip as he fell back against himself. Bull detached with a wet pop, moving up to give him a deep kiss before pulling back. Gayle and Dorian could only stare, their eyes wide in muted disbelief.

"Mmmm, if I knew Vint tasted so good, I might have kept more of you bastards alive." Bull licked his lips, obviously pleased with the silence he had inspired. "Though I think you should keep to what you know and leave sex with women to the professionals...like me."

Bull gave her a wicked grin and before she could speak, he ducked forwards, pulling her knees apart again to bury his grizzled face against her heat, lapping at the wetness leaking out of her as he rubbed his nose against her clit, licking up at times to circle and suckle her nub before returning to stroke over her lips. The scratch of his stubbled cheeks on her thighs and the insistent pressure of his mouth quickly sent her over the edge, her body spasming under him while she clawed at the mattress, her feet drumming against his huge shoulders as she tried to swim up through the hazy aftermath still ringing through her skull.

"If it's alright with you Boss, I'd like to show him how it should be done." Bull pushed himself back up onto his knees, his bulk towering over her, blocking out everything else. Gayle just nodded, unsure what she was agreeing to as her brain had decided to go on vacation. Without ceremony, Bull pulled at the waistband of his trousers and they dropped, snagging before a quick tug revealed him in all his glory.

"Fuck me!" Dorian gasped, moving around a little to where Gayle was, staring with his mouth agape.

"Maybe later." Bull retorted, his eye still fixed on Gayle's face as her heart struggled to find it's usual beat. He was...well. She now completely understood why the serving girls walked funny for days after 'Riding the Bull'. His length was only outmatched by the pulsing thickness of his girth, dark blue veins trailing ridges over the dusky purple skin until they reached the smooth, glistening head, larger and more pronounced than on any human penis. His balls weighed huge and heavy between his legs and Gayle realised exactly why he always wore loose fitting trousers. Her lungs began to burn and she realised that she'd forgotten to breath as she stared at him.

"Just say the word Boss and we'll stop. I promise I won't hurt you..." he rubbed his hands reassuringly over her legs. Gayle trusted him, knew that he would make this as comfortable for her as he could. She also knew that it was her one and only chance to experience this. She would never have courage or the excuse to find herself in this position again. Swallowing a gulp and forming a silent prayer, Gayle nodded her head and whispered "I trust you." Dorian let out a little huff of dissent beside her but didn't say anything. He was still transfixed on the spectacle before him and she knew he was going over his own logistics for future encounters. 

Bull's face softened with a little smile and he leaned down, hovering just over her body as he gave her a gentle kiss on the lips, surprisingly soft and chaste considering their situation. Propped up with his weight resting on one elbow, he stoked his hand down her face as he nibbled her ear, hot breath tickling against the sensitive skin. His fingers brushed and tickled over her body, teasing feathery caresses at her softest points, each pass relaxing her muscles and loosening the tight knot in her belly. When she turned to press her lips to his again with a contented sigh, Bull lowered himself over her, reaching down to pull one of her thighs up to her chest, shifting the angle of her hips. He moved again and she felt him. If he looked huge at first sight, he felt even bigger against her. It was impossible, how could she even think for a second that it was even feasible? Her mind raced to remember the watchword, the letters forming in her mind but not reaching her lips.

"Shhhh, relax Boss. I gotcha. Just take a deep breath." She followed his words, filling her chest with the clammy air before breathing out, her muscles unclenching as she exhaled. That was all Bull needed. As the breath left her body he pressed against her, pushing past the resistance of her protesting walls as they clamped down on him, the pressure of his searing head pushing them back as he slowly slid further in with each shallow thrust. She cried out at the feeling of him, the tight ache and the throbbing stretch as he filled her completely, but her throat constricted with all her other muscles, squeezing the sound down to little more than feeble squeal. Bull stopped as he puffed and bellowed above her. His cock pulsed in time to his heartbeat, feeling like it was melded into her flesh now, part of her being and as inseparable from her as a limb. He straightened up, lifting himself from her body and with two huge hands cradling her waist, he brought her up with him till he was kneeling, Gayle's body impaled as her back arched down and her shoulders rested on the mattress. He ran his hand up and down the curve of her exposed stomach, sliding over her breastbone and then back up to rub at her clit as his other hand supported her weight. With smooth, easy strokes, he began to push in and out of her, each bump and ridge of his swollen erection brushing hard against her, rubbing over spots of electric pleasure she never even knew she had. The ache of her body seemed to dull the sensation enough that Gayle didn't shatter immediately from the combined stimulation and she opened her eyes to watch Bull as he moved, his breath ragged and a deep growl vibrating through the air.

A movement on the edge of her vision pulled her attention to Dorian as he shuffled up to kneel beside Bull, his hands reaching out to stroke along his shoulder before he began to kiss down his sweat dappled skin. His hand hesitated, and with a growl from Bull as approval, Dorian reached down to grip his shaft, pumping his fist along length that her body was unable to take. She was shaking now, every part of her trembling as a deep swell of pleasure welled up through her body, spreading out through her bones and seeping into her flesh until she was buckling, fighting against the irresistible surge as Bull quickened his thrusts, pushing her closer to the edge. She hung there, her vision blurring as her muscles snapped taunt and with a little rub of calloused fingers over her nub, Gayle fell, sucked down and drowning, her body reacting to the feeling with sharp convulsions while her mind floated somewhere above them, detached and delirious. She came back into herself a few minutes later, long enough to watch as Dorian wrapped his hand and lips around Bull's erection, working on him at a furious pace as the Qunari flung his head back and bellowed, taloned nails digging into Dorian's back and shoulders. She closed her eyes as both body and mind insisted on pulling her down into the welcoming embrace of sleep, exhaustion winning over curiosity. Before Gayle slipped away completely, she heard a gasp and a choked voice spluttering "Maker's Balls!" while a rumbling laugh filled the air. "Third Rule. Always leave them wanting more."

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahoy! Sorry for the wait, blasted interwebz went a bit funny on me. However, here is the next installation. A rather abrupt change of pace as we are now nearing the end of my (not even remotely) little fic. Thanks again for the wonderful and completely hilarious comments. Seriously, some of you guys have given me a few crazy mental images with your posts. Not sure if I wanted to piss myself laughing or scrub my brain out with rubbing alcohol. Perhaps both. Love you all for it anyway!

The rest of the night seemed to pass in a murky blur. Gayle slept fitfully. A few times she was awoken by a gentle pressure on her brow, a warm hand supporting her head as a cup was pressed to her lips, the icy trickle of water soothing her aching throat and mouth. Other times she would emerge from a dream and call out in confusion, hands grasping in the dark until they were captured by larger, rougher ones. The restless desire in her seemed sharper and more painful in the silent blackness that enveloped them, and she would murmur her need into the empty air until her pleas were answered by soft lips on her own. Blinded, her other senses sharpened, making every brush of skin that bit more satisfying, every wet press of lips a burning brand upon her body. Gayle eagerly opened herself to the irresistible pressure of firm, muscled flesh against her own. She let her hands rove over the taunt lines that pressed her down into the mattress, fingers twinning through coarse curls or brushing over wiry bristles as they rocked and bucked to the steady rhythm that their release demanded. The thick air swallowed every gasp and cry as strong arms cradled her, gentle words soothing and lulling till sleep enfolded her once more. Gayle wasn't sure how much was reality and how much merely an extension of her dreaming mind as each encounter seemed to merge with the other in the endless passage of time.

When she woke for the final time, it was to the piercing light of morning. Wincing back, Gayle tried to angle her face away, whimpering feebly as the light bit mercilessly over her eyelids. A cool shadow dulled the glare and she relaxed back, daring to drag her heavy eyelids open to see who hovered above her. It took a few moment for her eyes to adjust, her vision blurring and wavering until everything snapped together into clear focus. The visage in front of her formed into cool blue eyes, sharp angled cheekbones drawing down to full lips and a pointed, cleft chin.

"Solas." It was little more than whisper, a quiet wisp of breath barely passing her lips. She reached a heavy limb up to cup his cheek but before her fingers touched him, he slipped away, only the sound of his footsteps bearing witness to his continued presence in the room. The bottom fell out of her stomach with his departure. She was tempted to close her eyes and hope for sleep to take her again, a cowardly wish to postpone the inevitable grappling with her conscience. Instead, she pushed and tussled herself up to lean against her headboard. 

Gayle took in the sight of her large, empty chambers, lit by the filtered light streaming in though the balcony doors. The drapes on her bed had been tied back to their posts, the sheets had been stripped and she was lying under a thick pile of woven blankets and furs. As she shifted into a more comfortable position, she noted that her robe was gone, replaced by a warm linen shirt and trousers, her skin feeling soft and clean as it pressed against the loose material. Gayle's hair had been smoothed and bound into a long braid which fell and curled over her shoulder and down to her chest. She tried to remember when she was woken to be cleaned and dressed, but as she filtered through the hazy memories of the previous night, she failed to touch upon any that could explain it. A clink of glass nearby drew her back and she turned to see Solas once more by her side.

He reached down, a small vial of cloudy, slightly muddy looking liquid in his outstretched hand. Gayle took it unquestioningly and the moment her fingers wrapped around the vial, brushing gently against his own, he snapped his hand back and straightened, turning to gaze out of the balcony doors to the blue mountains beyond. She tried for a moment to make out his face, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the sharp jut of his nose, but he remained motionless and she could read nothing but detachment from him. Gayle struggled to swallow past the jagged shard of glass that seemed to have formed in her throat before she gulped down the murky potion, nearly retching it back up immediately as the bitter, astringent brew hit her tongue. She spluttered and gasped, her stomach roiling in protest as the vial was plucked from her fingers and smooth ceramic replaced it.

"Drink this." Solas's voice was low and slightly clipped, but again she didn't hesitate as her lips caught the edge and she sucked down cool, clear water, sloshing it around her mouth to try and wash away the vile taste.

"Thank you." she rasped, as she lifted her face to his. Her eyes met his only briefly, a strange muddle of emotions flitting through them before he turned away once again and paced over to her desk.

"I will speak to the kitchen staff and have them bring you some toasted bread and milk. Witherstalk can cause considerable upset to the stomach and eating should help ease any nausea." Solas's voice was cool and distant, taking on the tone of a physician to his patient. He moved some books and papers around on the desk, making room for the intended tray. "The symptoms of the venom appear to have receded completely just before dawn. Cassandra saw to the safe destruction of the tainted preserves you consumed. A thorough investigation of the castle's current food supplies is under way."

Picking up a number of tomes, Solas turned toward the bookshelves and began to slot each one into place, taking out and rearranging a few that weren't in order. His back was to her and she watched as he quickly and carefully set everything to rights.

"Leliana is pressing her extensive network of contacts and agents to try and undercover who was behind the attack. Given that they had such specific and entirely accurate information regarding your tastes and preferences, it can only be assumed that someone inside of Skyhold provided these details. An internal investigation is also being conducted, both officially and in secret, to rout the traitor. I'm sure your advisers will be able to provide you with more accurate accounts tomorrow. For today, it has been decided that you should rest, undisturbed, so as to recover your strength." Solas ran his fingers gently over the leather bindings, scanning to ensure nothing was out of place. He seemed to hesitate now that his little task was completed and, after momentarily looking around for something else to occupy himself, he instead opted for his familiar, wide legged stance, hands clasped firmly behind his back as he rocked slightly on his heels. 

"What about everyone else? Are the others okay? Was anyone hurt?" Gayle had managed to clean most of the taste from her mouth and the water had helped to ease her raw throat. Still, she couldn't keep a little quiver out of her voice, the same soft shake that ran through her hands and into the cup she currently held in a death grip. While the room was warm from the morning sun, the atmosphere was frigid, filled with a stiff restraint that was nearly unbearable. Solas's shoulders tensed a little at her questions, his back straightening ever so slightly, but his reply was as cool and formal as before.

"It would seem that the situation in the castle resolved itself some time after midnight. There have been a few minor injuries though nothing serious has been reported. There is little point in trying to conceal the situation, given how widespread it's effects were, though your advisers have informed all involved that you were kept guarded and untouched until everything abated. No doubt Lady Montilyet will spin every rumour and report of the event in such a way as to only bolster your image and that of the Inquisitions."

"That's good." It was the most Gayle could muster to say, her eyes dropping to the cup still in her hand, her thumb tracing idly around the edge. She tried to think of something else to say, something that could fill the expanding silence between them, and eventually she decided on the truth. 

"I'm not going to apologise." she stated bluntly, the slight tremble in her voice negating the confidence she'd aimed for. "I'm not ashamed of what I did. I'd do it again, to save any of them, in a heartbeat. I...I hope you can understand that...even if..." 

Gayle's throat clamped down then and she was forced to stop. She wasn't even sure what she was going to say. Even if you can never look at me again? Even if you crush my heart in response? Even if you hate me. Even if I disgust you. Even if...

"You should try to rest, Inquisitor." was the barely audible reply. She looked up and noted that his shoulders had dropped at some point during her short speech, his head dipping towards the floor. Her heart seemed a feeble, flittering thing in her chest as she took in his words, watching uselessly as he quickly turned and made his way towards the stairs, his face moulded to an expressionless mask as he descended the steps without another word. Gayle thought for a moment that she saw glimmer of tears rim his eyes, but it was only a fleeting illusion as he disappeared and the dull thud of the door punctuated his retreat.

Gayle sat there for a moment, her pulse still racing wildly as she tried to steady her breathing and gather her thoughts. A little sob escaped her, but no tears. She hadn't cried once since she'd dropped out of the Fade, branded with magic and wrenched from everything she'd known. Not for the first life she took, though it left her retching and hollow for days. Not for the destruction of Haven and the deaths of so many innocent lives she had begun to know, their bodies strewn around her feet as she battle against an enemy far beyond her own strength and skill. Not even at the dawning realisation that she would most likely die at the end of all this, if not before, having never seen her family again. She would never get the chance to hold them, to tell them how much she loved them and to beg their forgiveness. In comparison, the loss of this little glimmer of happiness she had managed to glean seemed a trivial thing, a small matter when surrounded by so much destruction, but still it pierced her like a frozen spear through her chest, filling her body till it was icy and numb. Putting her empty cup to the side, she buried herself back under her coverings, letting the warm dark swallow her, body and mind. There would be more of this tomorrow, Gayle knew, and it would take everything left in her to face it. With that thought, she waited quietly as the sunlight crept it's slow descent across her floor and sleep took her once again.


	11. Chapter 11

The next few days turned out to be even more uncomfortable and trying than Gayle had first anticipated. Everyone in Skyhold seemed to tip toe around her. Some of the staff and guards treated her like she was an invalid, rushing to open doors and lift items, shooing her away from doing anything more strenuous than sitting and eating. It was all out of genuine concern and affection though. Sorcha, her personal attendant since she first awoke in Haven, had nearly burnt the ears off of Josephine and Cassandra both, when she was kept from looking after "her Herald". They had eventually relented, and it was Sorcha who greeted her when she woke again, rushing to find an empty basin for Gayle to dispose the contents of her stomach in. The mousy elf had stayed beside her for the rest of the day, rubbing soothing circles on her back as Gayle dry heaved for hours on end and badgering her every other moment to eat more food and sleep. Even now Sorcha continued to keep a close eye on her. Cassandra had remarked that, when riled, the little elf could face a high dragon and stare it down into submission. It was a pretty accurate summation.

A meeting had been scheduled early on the following day, though only Leliana, Josephine and Cassandra were in attendance. They made a rather half-hearted excuse for Cullen, citing several vague reasons for why he was absent. They never directly spoke of what had happened, skirting around the "incident" as much as possible, though every so often one of them would catch her eye with a concerned glance or a sympathetic gaze. Gayle pushed herself to keep as light-hearted and unaffected as she could, palming everything off with a joke and a smile. It wasn't a very convincing act, but it made her feel slightly better to try nonetheless. As Solas had predicted, Josephine managed to spin the whole sordid ordeal into the glowing triumph of their Maker blessed Herald over the evils of Thedas. Gayle was convinced that Varric had a significant hand in the whole thing, it was all far too overblown and dramatic for Josie. Leliana was having a harder time trying to track down the culprits. She was following several leads that pointed both to Tevinter and Orlais respectively.

In the meantime, Bull had taken to watching the meal preparations each day, much to the chagrin of the cook. He served her food himself and tasted every bottle of wine or jug of water she reached for. It was both touching and annoying in equal measure, though he still continued to treat her exactly the same as before. For him, it was just another experience they had shared together, like fighting a dragon or drunk arm-wrestling in the tavern. If anything, their friendship was that more stronger, knowing how much they would both risk to save the other. She found herself closer to Dorian too, if that was even possible. Their first meeting started a little awkwardly, neither quite sure what to say to break the ice. Eventually, Dorian pulled out a few sheets of parchment and a quill and asked her to draw some diagrams of her "techniques" that led to them both, hours later, in fits of laughter in a quiet corner of the tavern, gasping for breath.

Cullen and Blackwall were a different kettle of fish altogether. They had both reverted to being studiously polite and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Gayle found herself cornering Cullen after a meeting, ironically in the same corridor between the war room and Josephine's office where he first accosted her. He blushed and stammered through apologies while studying the floor, and it took a combination of gentle coaxing and irate threats before he would meet her gaze again. His feelings for her, spoken during the heat of sex, still weighed heavy between them and Gayle was left with a distinct impression that they hadn't abated quite as she expected. Nevertheless, he still approached her for a chess match during one warm afternoon and they played together until her incompetence drew him out of his silence and back to his lecturing best. After that, things between them seemed easier, if a still little unresolved. Blackwall, unsurprisingly, used the incident as a club to beat himself down with. Gayle tried so many different arguments to convince him that he was as much a victim as she was, but to no avail. She couldn't fathom why he was so eager to cast himself as a brute and eventually she resigned herself to a plan of long term confidence building between them.

As for the others. Varric, as observant as always, quickly picked up on the truth behind Josie's cover story. He didn't push, instead he informed Gayle of his unparalleled reputation as an excellent listener and his open door policy when it came to her. She in turn regaled him of the whole sorry tale during one late night, when the thought of sleep had drove her to his fireside. After a wide-eyed pause and his customary "Well...shit." reaction, he sat and talked the matter through with her, his words both sensible and comforting as they passed the rest of the evening together. Vivienne was her usual pragmatic self. She praised Gayle for "doing what must be done" and then swiftly moved on. It left Gayle wondering if the Mage had ever been placed in an compromising situation herself. It was something she didn't feel comfortable enough to push. Cole was especially sensitive to the mood in Skyhold for days afterwards. He was outright barred from the stables and Cullen's quarters, his confusion of how their pain and relief could both be the same thing, made for uncomfortable meals together. He also seemed to spend more time with Solas, locked away in the rotunda. Sera thought the whole thing was utterly hilarious. She gave Gayle a vivid description of the mayhem that raged outside the main castle. She especially enjoyed the part where "all the blokes ran about with red faces and boners", using it to taunt some of the nobles that enjoyed lingering around the main hall.

Then there was Solas. Gayle had reverted to full coward mode and didn't approach his study for almost a week. The more time that passed with barely a word exchanged between them, the more frightened she was of going to him. The few times they did speak, it was nothing more than a polite exchange of pleasantries. She knew it couldn't continue forever, that something would have to give sooner or later. Still, getting up the courage to face him was harder than running head first into battle. It was only when a report came through of a concentrated area of rifts in the Hissing Wastes that her hand was finally forced. Thin areas of the Veil tended to have ancient Elvhen artefacts nearby that could be activated to help reinforce it. Solas, whether due to his unique magic or some knowledge gained in the Fade, could feel when they were nearby. Without this sense, the small structures were easily overlooked. She needed his expertise and the thought of a week spent travelling and scrabbling over burning sands when things lay so heavily between them, it would be too much to bear.

And that's why, ten days since they had last spoken in her chambers, Gayle found herself in the dead of night at his door, staring down at the thin sliver of light, through the gaps in the wood, that announced his presence beyond. She had been standing there for ages, Varric eventually piping up from his chair to point out that putting it off was only making things worse. That had been five minutes ago and she still hadn't moved. Gayle pressed her hand over the door to knock, her knuckles hovering before she dropped both of her hands with a sigh. She was better than this. Stronger. Why did she let the thought of him reduce her to a nervous wreck? Exasperated at her own ineptness, she pressed head forward to rest against the wood while she sorted herself out. She misjudged the distance and instead her forehead hit the door with a echoing thunk.

"Come in." his voice was just audible from where she stood. With unsteady hands and a dry mouth, Gayle tried to focus herself. Taking a final deep breath, she slipped behind door, feeling totally unprepared for what lay ahead.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. An unfortunate mixture of writers block and a snottery nosed cold has left me bereft of inspiration. Hopefully though, you'll find this chapter worth the wait. Only one more chapter to go. Sad times my friends. I would like to dedicate this chapter to the lovely and supportive "book club" I'm lucky to be a part of. You guys are fabulous and I can only really express my gratitude with the gift that is Solas. I know you'll all appreciate it.

The tower was cloaked in darkness. The thick tallow candle on his desk, built upon the melted ruins of it's siblings, was the only illumination. The braziers that circled the walls were all put out. Solas was stood with his back to her as she entered. He did not turn around.

"Ah" he said. "I had been wondering when you would come to speak to me. Though I must admit, I did not believe that you would put the matter off for so many days."

Gayle bristled at the implication. How could he stand there and judge her when she was always the one to reach out, opening herself up while he locked everything away? "Well, I was going to wait for you to approach me, though I suppose the world would have crumbled to ruins before that happened."

"If you only came to subject me to your cutting wit, then I fear you have wasted your time."

Ugh, she could have punched him. Gayle had come to settle the issues between them, not to rile everything further. The way this conversation was headed, they would quickly be at each others throats. She turned, thinking that it was best to leave. Perhaps she could just take both Dorian and Vivienne with her. The two mages would bicker and squabble, but maybe between them they would figure out how to sense the orbs. It was cowardly, she knew, but the anger rising through her body would do both of them little good.

"Maybe I have. I'm sorry for disturbing you Solas, I'll refrain from doing so in the future." She said it and meant it. In the end, this may be the better option. Things would cool and settle while time blunted the edges of her pain and dulled her affections. Hopefully. Even if that didn't happen, it would give him the means to continue avoiding her. Gayle took a few quiet steps towards the door before cool fingers wrapped around her wrist like a vice. The sudden contact startled her and she recoiled away, wrenching her hand out of his grip. When she turned to look at him, his expression quickly doused the angry mixture of emotions flaring inside of her. He looked sad and lost and more vulnerable than she had ever seen him.

"No. Please. I...forgive me." Solas hesitated, making to reach out for her again before he quickly dropped both hands, taking a reluctant step back. He lowered his eyes until they settled on a spot just past her shoulder and schooled his face back to it's usual reserved mask. "It was not my intention to provoke you. It was ill-done and I apologise."

"I didn't come to argue with you Solas."

"I know what you came here to say." He turned from her then, taking a few paces to the side as he scrutinised the dim outline of one of his own murals. He held his hands behind his back, standing stiffly like a general before his soldiers on the battlefield. "And I agree. It would be for the best, for both of us. A great task still lies before us, one which we can ill afford to lose focus from."

"Oh...of course." So that was it then. It took so few words to grind her heart into the cold stone below his feet. Solas managed to do it with such unconscious ease she couldn't help but envy him. It must be a relief, to be able to detach yourself so easily from emotion. All Gayle could hope for was to keep the tremor from her voice when she spoke. "I will be leaving for the Hissing Wastes in two days time. There have been reports of a large concentration of rifts in one of the areas. I would appreciate your expertise in locating any Elven artefacts that may strengthen the Veil, if you are available to join us."

"Of course. I will prepare for the journey immediately." He abruptly turned and walked over to his desk, his back once more to her as he began to sort through parchment and books. Solas couldn't have signalled the end of the conversation more clearly if he had written it in Veilfire over the walls.

"Thank you." When he made no reply, Gayle took one last look at his silhouette as he shuffled aimlessly around the table. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. It had been so abrupt. So emotionless. Did she really mean so little to him, after all they had been through? Did it even matter in the end? Suddenly, the walls of the room seemed too close, constricting in around her. She had always found comfort here but now, the dark seeping shadows felt hostile and even the air seemed thick and alien to her. She needed to leave.

"Goodnight Solas." she whispered before walking back toward the door that led to the main hall.

"Goodnight Inquisitor." he replied, so softly it made her stop just as her fingers met the handle. Doubt gnawed at her insides, itching over her skull and down her spine. Gayle knew that this may be the only time he might answer her. She had to try. 

"Can I...can I ask you one question, about us, before I leave?" With her back to the door, she watched him freeze, long hands poised over a few fragmented shards he had been researching. "I promise that it will be the last time I speak to you of it, but I...I just. I need to know something. I need to know the truth. Even if it hurts."

"I will try to answer. If I can." Solas straightened once again, his head turning slightly until the candlelight painted a buttery glow over the profile of his face.

"Why did you pretend?"

"I'm sorry I...I'm not sure I understand. Pretend?" He shifted his body to fully face her now, brows contracted in what seemed like genuine confusion.

"With me. When we were together. You didn't have to. I wouldn't have held it against you that you didn't...that you never felt the same way. For me. As I did for you." Gayle was stumbling now, over both her words and her thoughts. Every syllable she uttered seemed to harden a line of his face until he was scowling darkly at her

"Oh? And what feeling did you believe me lacking in?" Solas's voice held a cold, sharp edge and she knew that she was treading on thin ice now. She would probably regret it but Gayle needed to hear him say it, in his own words. How could she even attempt to heal without the closure his answer would bring?

"You don't have to keep on pretending. Not now, after everything that's happened." She moved back into the room towards him, hoping that he could tell from her face that she wasn't judging him. She didn't want to push him further. She just needed to know. "I can understand if you never felt attracted to me. I just can't understand why you would lie about it."

"I see. And when, exactly, did you come to the realisation of my deceit, as you believe it?" Whatever Solas read in her face, it didn't seem to placate him. His jaw was clenched, the muscle that ran from his ear to the corner of his mouth twitched and pulsed as he watched her approach.

"Solas, I know you wouldn't do it to hurt me. It's all right. You could have told me before, I wouldn't have tried to push you. I never wanted to force myself on you. After the poison, when you didn't react, when Vivienne said..."

"Ah yes, the great and all knowing Enchanter Madame de Fer." Solas cut her off, spitting the words at her. He was furious now and Gayle found herself caught under the gathering thunder in his stormy blue eyes. "How comforting it is to know that you would hold her opinion over everything I've ever said or done."

"Don't patronise me." His building anger seemed to trigger her own in response and she could feel the molten flare in her stomach. "You might have been defensive, but you never denied it."

"What would you have had me say?" he demanded.

"The truth! All I've ever wanted was the truth. Is it too much to ask?" Both of their voices were raised now, just short of shouting. The raven's roosting high above them squawked and rustled in indigence at being woken so rudely. Black curls of feathers floated down around them, one downy puff catching on the candle's flame and igniting in a short flash of fire and smoke, swirling the smell of burnt feathers through the air.

"And what truth do you believe would have cured you?" Solas loomed over her now, all reserve and restraint scattered over the floor amid the dusky plumage. "That I have desired you for so long that no mere poison could weaken me more than your presence alone? That the burning fire which tore through every other man was but a dull ache compared to the passion you alight within me? That I would have rather seen all of Thedas laid to waste and ruin around your feet than to watch another man lay a hand upon you? Are these the confessions you would have had from me?"

"Ah...yes?" Gayle stared up at him, caught fully in his gaze. Her heart was stammering an unsteady beat in her chest as his words settled over them both, the heat of their anger quickly turning into a palpable tension. Solas was so close now she could feel his warm breath against her lips. Could he mean it? It seemed almost too much to hope.  "Solas..."

"You would do well to forget all of this." Even as he spoke his face seemed to drift closer to hers, his voice barely more than a whisper.  "It will only lead to more pain. It seems that I am fated to always fail you. Each time more than the last."

"I don't want to forget. I just want you." she confessed, as he unconsciously shook his head before ducking down to press his mouth over hers. The kiss was desperate and needy and gloriously unrestrained. Solas's arms twined so tightly around her that she had to arch back under the press of his torso, every inhale of air pushing his chest against hers, forcing the breath from her body. He wound one hand into her hair, angling her face so he could consume her mouth more fully. Gayle didn't know how long they stood like that, bodies and tongues tangled together as they both tried to express with their lips and hands what words always failed to capture. She only broke the kiss when her head became so clouded and dizzy that she was afraid she might pass out from the intensity. She waited for Solas to draw back, to put some space between them as he always did when they went too far, but he only seemed to hold her tighter.

"You know, you can be a bit of an ass." Gayle said as he trailed kisses over her brow and eyes, sweeping down to trace the curve of her cheek, the line of her nose and across the edge of her jaw. He laughed, a little snort catching the end of his chuckle as he pressed his lips against hers, eyes glittering in amusement.

"You are not the first person to inform me of this. In my defence, you are completely impossible." Solas smiled adoringly at her, his expression an affectionate mixture of resignation and pride.

"You're not the first person to tell me that either." Gayle grinned back up at him, kissing over his pointed chin and tracing the little dip of the cleft with her tongue.

"I love you." She said it as simply and straight-forwardly as she could. It wasn't a question or a timid declaration. It was simply the truth, bare and uncomplicated. Solas gave her a fathomless look for a few seconds before he kissed her again, even more passionately than before. If that was possible. He wasn't content just to hold her now, as he pushed his body against her so hard that she thought he was trying to weld them together by sheer force of will. They both stumbled back with the force, graceless and unsteady as they fumbled across the room until Gayle's thighs hit against his desk. Solas pressed her down against it, neither of them bothering to move assorted clutter from their path. An ink well tipped, the black liquid pooling and spreading over the polished wood until it dripped dark splatters over the floor. Before the puddle reached the tangled strands of Gayle hair, Solas pulled her back, breaking away with a gasp as they both scrabbled to steady themselves.

"Not here...not like this." He panted, but his hands didn't seem to possess the same resolve as they traced and caressed over every inch of her. Gayle clung to his wide shoulders as she fought the breath back into her body, trying to comprehend his words through the foggy haze of lust. Solas kissed and nibbled up her neck, licking over the pulse of her throat before his mouth covered her ear, the hot trickle of his words sending a glittering shiver of desire down her spine. "I want to show you something. To explain. Will you come with me, my heart?"

Gayle nodded dumbly at his request, turning her face to capture his mouth again. He let the kiss linger for a moment before pulling back, twining his fingers around her own as he helped to pull her up onto shaky legs. 

"It's not far." he assured her as his lips brushed over her hairline before he turned to lead her back into the hall. Gayle followed willingly, if a little unsteady, like a new born Halla balancing on spindly legs. She didn't care where he was taking her. He could be dragging her down into the void itself for that it mattered. As long as he was there, it was the only place she ever wanted to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter will be glorious Solas smut. It's what we've been waiting 12 chapters for, admit it. Hopefully, he won't be as long a tease for you guys as he's been for poor Gayle. x


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I finally did it. I managed to scrape together enough of my addled brain cells to actually finish this story, some four months later than I should have. I'm so sorry for how long this took. While I could list out a variety of excuses and complications, let me just say instead that I never gave up on trying to complete this. I can't count the number of tries, edits and do-overs it took to reach this, and even now, I still think this could do with a heavy-handed edit and about 90% less cliched schmaltz. Problem is, at the pace I was going, you wouldn't get an ending until 2017, by my conservative estimate.
> 
> So please, take my feeble offering with my love and apologies. If you're also a reader of my other GaylexSolas fic, I'm going to be working on that one next, hopefully at a far speedier rate than with this. x

Fingers tangled together, Solas led Gayle out of his study and across the now deserted main hall. The braziers had died down to faint embers, casting a weak glow into the surrounding darkness. Gayle chanced a glance towards Varric's fireplace as they passed, but his seat was empty, only a scattering of parchment and a few blunted quills on the nearby table as evidence of it's previous occupant. Solas didn't pause as he opened the door leading to the garden and gently tugged her along with him. Light snapped and bent along the walls as a gust of air whipped at the wall sconce in the short hallway in between, smothering the flames and plunging the little alcove into darkness.

Gayle tightened her grip, reached out with her other hand, fumbling as everything went black. Her fingers brushed the soft wool of his jumper, mapping out the familiar shape of a lean forearm, curling up around an elbow as she slowly traced the hard bands of muscle towards his shoulder. Solas's fingers captured hers half way to her goal, guiding her hand till it rested over the stuttering beat of his heart, the slow rise and fall of his chest a counter point to it's thrumming rhythm. A silent shift, and then she felt the press of him as he strayed closer, a hot puff of breath ghosting over her lips. Gayle eagerly parted them to breath him in. She reveled in their closeness, the heat that radiated from his skin, the smell of him, amplified and sharpened with her loss of her sight. Lips, she could imagine them now, full and flushed from kissing, just inches away and begging for her own to meet them. Gayle leaned forwards, eager and breathless, her stomach coiled in anticipation of the kiss to come.

She waited. And waited. After a long stretch of utterly frustrating nothingness, she snapped her mouth shut with an angry click of teeth. A smug little laugh tickled her ear, and then the heat of Solas's body dissolved from under her hands.

“You know, you're an unforgivable tease.” she stated into the empty air, eyes blinking uselessly as she searched for some faint outline of his form. Gayle was met by unbroken silence, not the scuffle of a footstep or the rustle of cloth to indicate that there was anyone else in this cramped space with her.

“Is that so?” he breathed along the skin at her collar, a hand trailing a fleeting brush across her hip before it disappeared.

“Yes...” she whispered back, turning towards his voice, taking a few tentative steps in the dark, her fingers reaching out to find him. She came up empty, and another chuckle rumbled in the air, except this time it seemed to come from the darkness all around her, closing in until she was shivering, a tight fist of fear gripping her under the growing desire.

“Another of my many flaws, I fear, though one you could perhaps help me remedy.” Without warning, Solas pressed his full body against her back, his arms caging round her torso, pulling her tightly against him. One long fingered hand snuck down to stroke along her waistband, dipping in to tease the smooth, sensitive skin quivering underneath. The other crossed her chest to cup firmly under her left breast, his fingers curling round the shape as his thumb traced an infuriating slow circle around her sensitive nipple.

Gayle leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder as Solas's mouth descended, hot and wet onto her neck, suckling and biting a searing path from her clavicle up to the hollow behind her ear. She grabbed either side of his hips, squeezing and twisting at the material to stop from moaning wantonly at the contact. Gayle couldn't help angling her hips to rub her crotch against his, desperate to gain some brief relief from the growing ache between her legs. Solas broke from her neck to choke a low gasp and then his hands were gripping her hard enough to bruise as he began to grind back into her, the hand at her waist no longer teasing but pushing further down to rub roughly at her seam, his other almost bruising as he kneaded at her breast.

“Ah...how easily you undo me.” Solas pulled back a little, his arms circling her waist in a firm embrace, his face buried in her hair as they both panted in the stifling air. He was careful to ease his hips back from hers, though there was little he could do to conceal the urgent swell of his own desire. He heaved a long sigh into her hair which ended abruptly with a rueful chuckle.

“I must confess, when I objected to continuing our...reconciliation...in my study, it was not with the thought that a cramped alcove would provide a more romantic surrounding.”

“I don't know. I think this may have just become my favourite spot in Skyhold.” Gayle turned to nuzzle along his jaw, pressing her nose into the hollow of his cheek as she took in the warm scent of his skin.

“Hmm you are rather proficient at distracting me from my intentions. Come, my heart, you deserve better than some blind fumble in a darkened corner.” His hand slipped into hers and once again she found herself being led forward, a silvery slash of light cutting through the inky darkness as Solas pulled open the large oak door that led to the enclosed garden beyond.

After the total darkness of the hallway, the light from the braziers dotted around the hushed foliage seemed painfully bright, and Gayle winced and squinted a little as her sight returned. Solas appeared unaffected as he wove them both through the tall grass and flowering bushes, the air thick with the green smell of leaves and a hint of sweet honeysuckle.

“That day, when you desperately searched me out in hope of a cure, I was here, in the garden.” 

“Were you brushing up on your chess moves for a rematch with Bull?” She had often listened to their games as they scrabbled across Thedas, fighting and fixing in equal measure. Gayle had tried to keep up once or twice, but she quickly failed, lost in the dizzying barrage of moves and snide remarks. It's one of the reasons she accepted Cullen's invitations to play. Under no illusions about her own pitiful skill, Gayle simply hoped to learn enough that she might follow, and enjoy, the back and forth between her friends.

“Not exactly." Solas didn't turn around, though he stretched a hand out to trace the shape of an amber leaf, his fingertip glistening with the gathered dew. "I was searching for something.”

“Weeds?” That earned her a snort and a wry grin as he glanced back.

“That would have been a short search. No, I was looking for an object, a small thing. Something so mundane that it would be easily disregarded, if you didn't know what to look for.” Gayle's curiosity was immediately peaked. She was a sucker for a treasure hunt, as attested by the mosiac pieces lining the hall and the collection of questionable liquor bottles in the basement. Solas's smile quirked a little, obviously pleased that he'd hit on that particular character trait.

“And did you find it?”

“Indeed, I found it shortly before Cole found me. I had planned to bring you here that night, to show you the little treasure I had discovered. I could never have guessed at how the next few hours would unfold.” And just like that, the evening warmth was suddenly stolen from the air, swept away by the barest mention of that fateful day. Solas's smile fled with it, a frown sharpening his features as he stared into the distance, silent and unmoving, lost in his memories. Gayle gripped his hand, squeezing it hard, trying to draw him back from the dark path his thoughts had wandered. 

“Is it still here?” She asked, tugging him closer in a bid to pull his attention back to her. Solas turned, but his eyes still held a cold distance, as though he wasn't really looking at her but still drifting in another time. She shifted up onto her toes, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, watching as the recognition filtered back into his gaze. His face softened again, but this time it was etched in sadness as he regarded her. Time stretched and then his lips met hers, gentle and bittersweet. They broke apart when a clatter and the ring of steel on stone echoed from somewhere beyond the parapets overlooking them. Gayle tried to remember what they were speaking of, hoping to shift the conversation back to the way it was before, but Solas spoke first.

“It should still be here, yes. I threw it aside in my haste but, with luck, we may yet find it nearby.” He smiled, the edges of it still tinted with a lingering melancholy, but it was something. Gayle returned his smile with enough enthusiasm to fill the both of them and still have some to spare.

"Come on then. It won't find itself." She tugged at his hands, dragging him forwards, only mildly concerned that she had no clue as to what they were searching for. Not that it mattered. The surrounding braziers seeped a golden light into the cool dark of the evening, and the smell of the damp earth and rustling leaves, coupled with the warm pressure of Solas's fingers twisted around her own, were enough to keep her utterly content. Luckily, Solas wasn't as easily distracted. With a gentle nudge, we herded her from her aimless wandering, guiding them towards the tall, crimson clad maple tree near the well. His eyes darted over the ground as they walked, sifting through the fallen leaves and roots. Gayle looked around too, puzzling over what curiosity they could have missed when they first came upon Skyhold. Scouts and scholars both had combed over every niche of the fortress when they first arrived, looking for traps and artifacts, respectively. They had had found little of the former and a wealth of the latter, a handful of the items recovered were still being poured over by giddy researchers. 

"Ah!" Solas let out a triumphant little cry before reaching down to scoop up his find. Gayle crowded close, eager to finally see this mystery treasure that had evaded discovery for so long. It was a...clump of dirt? Gayle peered closer as Solas carefully brushed away some soil and roots that clung to it's surface. No, not a ball of dirt but a stone, about the size of an apple, dark grey in colour and roughly rounded in shape. A thin piece of string was looped through a hole at one end, but other than that, it was entirely unremarkable. Gayle couldn't help but feel a little deflated at the discovery.

“Oh, well." she said, trying to sound interested, if not enthusiastic. "That's quite the um...rock. It's lovely. Very rock-like. An amazing find.” Solas just smirked back, plainly not put out by her reaction.

“I did explain that it looked rather unremarkable to the eye." He passed it over to her, the firm weight of it not too heavy in her hands. She noticed there was smooth, almost glassy flecks interspersed over it's grainy surface. Still, what use a rock on a string could have, completely evaded her. Solas turned and walked a few paces away before sweeping his hand out towards archways surrounding them. One by one, the torches sputtered and failed, steeping the garden in twilight.

"Skyhold has been many things to a multitude of people throughout the ages." Solas explained, using what Gayle fondly called his "lecturing" voice, as he paced round the well, taking in the darkened outlines of the undergrowth. "These walls have provided sanctuary to some, a base of power to others, a place of worship for pilgrims and a battleground for armies. Where we stand now, there once stood a host of a thousand strong, prostrate in the deepest worship. They knelt in prayer for so many days that, when they finally rose, the ground beneath them was barren and withered from the lack of nourishing light."

Gayle looked around, trying to picture the scene in her minds eye. She could hardly believe that a few hundred would fit in this small garden let alone thousands. What could they have been praying to for so long? Solas continued speaking, caught up in his own memories.

"In another time, a defeated army laid it's dead here to rest. The mounds of the slain grew so high, they breached the walkways above, and the cries of the mourners echoed through the frozen hills to the valley miles below."

That hit a little too close to home for Gayle's liking. There were still injured resting near the gates, healers working tireless to save those they could. She had been there when they brought back the bodies of those who had perished at Haven, trying to identify who they could and giving what respectful rest they could to those who remained nameless. Solas, perhaps picking up on her musings, quickly came back around, smoothing his palms over her hands as they still cradled the rock.

"This, however, was left forgotten in a happier time. It was the plaything of a young child. His simple joy, a small glimmer of happiness through the turmoil and pain which still echos in the Fade, drew me to the memory. When I awoke, the vision lingered with me until I finally relented to my curiosity. I held little hope of finding it, yet...well. It seems such a trivial thing now, given all that has happened. Still, I wanted to share the memory with you. It felt wrong, to leave it abandoned and overlooked in the dirt.”

“So it, eh." Gayle weighted it in her palm, trying to think of a use. "Ah. Did they throw it around or...?”

She was rewarded with a full laugh, deep from his belly and a lingering kiss high on her cheekbone.

“If I may.” Solas said, eyes still shining in amusement. Gayle nodded and he lifted the stone carefully from her hands by the corded loop at the top. It hung from his outstretched fingers, swaying in the air as he approached a low hanging bough from the nearby maple and deftly looped it over a branch. With a quick check to make sure he had her full attention, Solas turned back to the object, a bright flicker of magic crackling from his fingertips and out to envelope it's craggy surface with prying forks of light. The magic disappeared and for several seconds nothing seemed to come of it. Dimly, little speckles of silver started to glow along the surface. They quickly brightened, each pinprick steadily glowing with a brilliant radiance until they scattered their reflections across the garden, wavering and glinting over the ground and up through the bushes, mirroring the stars as they danced over the walls and peeked through the leaves.

“It's beautiful.” Gayle stretched out her arms to watch the light flitter across her skin. When she looked up, Solas was standing close beside her once more, seemingly fascinated with her own fascination.

“Hmmmm.” Solas trailed a finger in the wake of one little white bead as it swept a curve over her wrist to disappear at the crook of her elbow. Gayle couldn't help but shiver at the touch, looking up to see his face haloed in stars.

“It is called a starstone." he had dropped his formal, lecturing tone and his voice had taken on a softer, huskier quality. "It's a sliver of raw lyrium encased in crystal. The lyrium fragment is too small to be harvested, and so many dwarves sell them as curiosities, to be carved into decorations or jewellery. Rarely, they might be used as this, a pretty distraction for young minds.”

“And what are they for old and grizzled minds?” She asked, not missing the veiled jab at her age.

“An echo of the past. A memory of a time now lost." Solas paused, searching her face. "An...apology.” His eyes flickered away from her own, but then he clenched his jaw and drew them back. "I am not proud of how I reacted that day. I am not accustomed to such feelings. Guilt yes, I carry more of that than I could even begin to tell. But jealousy? Possessiveness? Those were...unexpected demons to struggle against. But if you learn nothing else, know this; No matter what I may have felt that day, I never thought, never could think, any less of you. You are one of the most compassionate, selfless spirits I have ever met. You continue to surprise me, to challenge me and I am a far better man for having known you. No matter what happens, please remember this. Remember us, as we are now."

That did it. On hearing his confession, knowing that he didn't despise her for what she had to do, it broke through some barrier Gayle had erected around herself, one that had been built, brick by brick, death by death, ever since she awoke one day to the sound of ravens and the searing pain of a green mark upon her hand. Tears gathered and spilled, hot and salty down her face as she looked into his gentle eyes, finally weeping for everything she had lost and all that she had gained.

"Vhenan." Solas sighed, pulling her to him, gently tucking her body into his as he kissed the tears from her eyes, brushing his lips over the wet tracks as they dripped and gathered at her mouth and chin. He mumbled soft, forgotten words against her skin and when she had finally calmed, Gayle hungrily sought to swallow them from his mouth. Their kiss stretched and deepened as they clung to each other, Solas slowly lowering them down to the overgrown grass beneath their feet. It made a surprisingly comfortable bed as he pressed his body over hers, mouth seeking out the soft skin of her throat, a quiet hand slipping up under her tunic to explore the skin underneath. Gayle gave a happy sigh as her hands traced the lines of his back and shoulders, the moon winking down on at them through shifting ribbons of cloud.

"We shouldn't, not here." Solas managed to mumble, even as his fingers made short work of the buckles at her waist, loosening the leather enough for for him to slip a hand in and under her trousers, palming and kneading the rounded flesh of her behind. 

"You're right. Making love on the grass while falling stars shimmer down around us, is so unromantic. The dirty floor of a corridor was a far better idea."

Another groan, this time one of resignation, was his only response. Well, that and the rather urgent tug of his fingers as he unclasped the buttons along Gayle's top, peeling back the fabric until her skin met the cool night air. He sat up, legs astride her hips as he stared down over the newly exposed flesh. The light from the stone still quivered in the air, though fainter now, the speckles of silver shivered faintly over his body and face. She tugged at the bottom of his shirt but he didn't move, eyes still dark and wide as they roamed her body. Frustrated, Gayle sat up, nearly knocking Solas over in surprise. She steadied him with a firm grip on his hip while her other hand pushed back the material at his waist, nuzzling her face into taunt lines of his stomach. She dipped her tongue into his bellybutton and his hips jerked in response, one hand clamping tightly onto her shoulder while the other tangled itself through her hair.

"Gayle...I. Please." Solas's voice stuttered out into a string of incomprehensible vowels. Gayle use her grip on his waist to tug down the band of his trousers, inch by inch, as she lapped at the delicious line of muscle that sloped, gracefully, to her prize. He had grown, rapidly, as she teased down his body, straining at tight linen of his pants. She glimpse the top of his shaft and dipped her tongue down to swipe a feathering lick over the base and Solas chocked out a curse above, roughly pushing her back until she was laid out on the grass once more, a smug grin plastered over her face. 

"I thought I was the tease?" Solas's looked utterly debauched as he loomed over her. Gayle just grinned back, giving his shirt another tug and helping him peel off the offending article before he leant down to kiss her, his necklace snagging on an ear before dropping back down to rest against his chest. She kicked off her boots as they kissed, hearing the dull thump of them falling somewhere nearby. Solas deftly slipped her leggings off, all teasing patience disappearing with them. He grazed a line down the center of her body, pushing her legs wide apart before pressing his mouth hard against her core. His warm breath seeped through her damp underclothes as he hungrily took in her scent. It made her wince to think of how wet she was, her smalls had been soaked through so many times throughout the night that she figured they were ruined. Well, if they weren't before, Solas made sure they would be completely unsalvageable now, as he tore through the crotch before engulfing her with his mouth.

Gayle arched off the ground with a gasp but Solas didn't break the contact, rising up to follow her before she collapsed back down with a whimper. He lapped and suckled over every inch, burying deep into her folds before pulling out to circle round her clit. It was too much, she was building too quickly, release rushing at her like an incoming wave. He pulled back just before she crested, kissing and stroking her inner thighs as tide of her orgasm drew back again. Once her breath started to even, he kissed back up towards her, eyes glinting and his chin leaving a slick trail of her own wetness over her stomach and chest. They stared at each other, kissing the little marks and freckles they both knew so well, brushing away tangled leaves and streaks of dirt from the other.

"Solas, I need you." Something flashed across his face. Hesitation maybe, or doubt. It was only there for a moment and then it disappeared, replaced by something closer to longing.

"I am yours, vhenan." he whispered back, their mouths meeting as Gayle raised her legs, hooking her toes into his waistband before shucking down his trousers and unhooking them from his feet. He shifted above her, the head of his cock brushing against her. He eased himself into her clenching heat, slowly drawing out every sensation until he was buried achingly deep inside. They rocked together, building a steady rhythm as he shifted and angled each thrust until he was rubbing against her inner wall, stroking that exquisite place that made her buck and moan with every pass. His eyes never strayed from hers, taking in every twitch and gasp as though he was committing each second to memory. Gayle tried desperately to quell the fire building low in her stomach, wanting to draw this out for as long as possible, but it was a losing battle. Solas's thrusts became more urgent as he chased her towards the edge, pushing higher, until the pleasure wound quivering through her body, a string stretched so taunt that when it snapped, her whole body convulsed with the shock, jerking and twisting with each pulse. Her eyes were blurred, but she could feel Solas wrapped tightly around her, his mouth swallowing down her cries as he spilled inside her, all the while whispering her name like it was the answer to every question ever asked.

The stars wheeled above, seemingly unaffected by her recently attained bliss. Gayle gradually fell back into her body, becoming aware of the press of Solas still covering her body with his own, the feel of teeth nibbling along her jaw, the sound of his ragged breath and his heart pounding against her own. She also became painfully aware of the clumps of gritty dirt and stones digging uncomfortably into her back and legs, and the icy bite of the air against the parts of her skin not covered by the warmth of her lover. She tried to draw attention to this, but all that came out was a little whine of noise as a shiver wracked along her spine. The world flipped as Solas rolled them both over, his hands smoothing over her sweat soaked back before she heard a rustle of leaves and something warm and woolen was draped over her figure. She eased her head back, pressing a kiss as a thank you into the cleft dip of his chin before tucking her head into the crook of his neck, enjoying the heat still burning hot from his skin.

"Solas."

"Hmm?" His hands traced idle patterns down her sides.

"Do you think this will always stay here, in the Fade, like the other memories you found?" His fingers stopped and she felt him hesitate, wondering if it was a strange question to ask.

"I...yes. Perhaps. The Fade mirrors and reflects any moments where the pull of emotion is strong enough to call spirits to it's memory. There is a chance, in some far off age to come, that another wanderer may visit here and be drawn to the feelings pulled through the Veil from our world to the other. Does the thought trouble you?"

"No, not really. It's kinda nice actually, to think that a little bit of this might always stay here, even when everything else is gone. Well, the feeling part anyway. Maybe not the more graphic details. Can you edit the Veil?" Solas just laughed and began to untangle her hair, smoothing down the unruly curls. Something sharp nipped the flesh just under her left breast and with a sigh, Gayle eased herself up enough to fish it out. Looking down, she caught the sharp line of Solas's strange bone necklace. Twisting it through her fingers, she held it up to the night sky, trying to make out it's shape in the dark.

"I must say, this is not the most comfortable thing to have lying between us." she mused aloud. Solas stilled beneath her, his breathing stopped. Gayle played with it for a few more seconds before placing it down to the side, snuggling deeper into his arms as a cold gust of wind whipped around them. "Not that I'm critiquing your choice in jewellery. It just so happens that I'm a big fan of your apostate chic look." Solas's breathing returned, though perhaps not quite at the relaxed pace as it had been before.

They stayed like that, wound around each other as the moon dipped behind the parapets and the sky lightened above, tinted with the dusky pink glow of a new day dawning over Skyhold.


End file.
